House of Spirits
by dana-llama-saur
Summary: In December, after Pitch's defeat, horrifyingly strange things had started happening to the believers. However the Man in the Moon had a plan. This plan involved Jack Frost being tested in a very foriegn battlefield: high school. Could he help the teenage spirits of the House fight Pitch's new threat? Even with a certain spirit distracting him? A far from minor distraction. Jack/OC
1. Loud Thoughts, Hushed Whispers

**A/N: **Heeeyy! I've read it over a few times now - albeit whilst half asleep, late night - and am finally happy with it! (Took me long enough). Constructive criticism is welcome, but please bare in mind that this is the first fan fiction I've ever written. It may seem slow moving at first but I wanted to explain where Jack's mind has been and why he was there. I really hope you enjoy it and feel free to review, follow, pm me etc. Enjoy! :)

**Chapter 1: Loud Thoughts, Hushed Whispers.**

Jack hadn't realised that he'd been dazedly staring at the globe for longer than what would have been considered natural for any human or immortal being, until all of the tiny lights merged into one giant mass of white. He'd been chewing over the lives of these little lights, trying to estimate how many of dots he'd seen, meet, or had a snowball fight with. At least that's how it started. He soon started comparing the lives of the children to his past childhood. He'd just been casually pondering, zoning out from the tiring world, when he came across something he hadn't really considered:

'_Many of these lights will grow up into their teen years very soon. Their lights will vanish. They'll move onto dating, going to parties, living on something called the int-er-net and they'll stop believing.' _The alien nature of teenagers and high schools started to settle into his thoughts. Then he remembered, _'I'm a teenager, this stuff shouldn't be "alien" to me! I'm centuries old, but I'm still seventeen. In a way...' _And so, he was plunged into further reflection.

Over the past two months he'd found that getting lost in thought was becoming a more regular occurrence. He'd been thinking about his life before he became a guardian and comparing it to his present. He loved being a guardian. He got to play with the kids and protect them, and travel the wind around the world to see and play with them, but what he loved most was them being able to see him. He'd been so lonely for most of his perpetual life, but now he had believers, friends and family.

Jamie and Sophie weren't his siblings in blood, but they may as well have been. He'd been running and flying around non-stop all winter, visiting them at any spare moment he could grasp. It was a bit more than exhausting for him to fly from one country to another all day, causing havoc for busy travelling citizens and weather forecasters, to then fly to the other side of the world to play with two fully fuelled bundles of energy for several hours. Not to mention, Sophie had been getting very creative with her new games. These games didn't have any particular names but could be identified by commands. For example, if each of them were to koala-hug his legs and shout 'Fly Frosty!' he knew he was expected to take off into the air, with two abnormally shaped rocket boots clinging onto him. As you can probably imagine, most of the games ended in Jamie and Sophie rolling around in fits of laughter, and poor Jack collapsed and gasping for breath in his own snow. Let us now re-appreciate the description of, "a bit more than exhausting". Even though sleep wasn't really necessary for an immortal winter spirit, he'd come to the conclusion that it was now one of the most desirable necessities of all. So how come, even in his drained and sluggish state, he couldn't fall asleep?

He'd tucked Jamie and Sophie into bed and petted their dog Abby (whilst giving her his hundredth compliment for chasing the Easter Kangaroo, earlier in the year), then headed straight to North's workshop for a cosy room to welcome his well earned sleep. – Being a Guardian meant that Jack could visit the workshop whenever he wanted. The best part of that was the endless opportunity to infuriate Phil the yeti, who used to stop him from entering before. Although he'd gone there in hope of a peaceful rest, he had instead gained a headache and several hours of sprawling across the bed in different directions, trying to get comfortable. And so, there he was; in the Globe Room, drowning in wave after wave of thought.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the white blur from his vision. He didn't understand what was going on. _'Why am I over thinking every little thing?' _He thought as his drowsy but slightly more normal sight came back. 'After all, I'm the Guardian of fun. I'm not supposed to have worries!' He clamped a pale hand on his mouth as he realised he'd exclaimed his last thought aloud.

'Do I mishear, or does Jack Frost say he has vorries?' Asked a very curious voice, in a thick and very familiar Russian accent.

Jack turned, wide eyed with his hand still covering his mouth, to see North, the same as ever; long white beard, rosy cheeks and nose, tattoos on his folded arms, and two dark caterpillar eyebrows raised above his big blue (currently extremely amused) eyes. His get-up, however... That was new. Jack snapped out of his moment of surprise and doubled over into a fit of laughter. 'Nice pyj-jam-as!' He cackled in between laughs and gasps for breath. North stood before him, manly as ever, in a big red pyjama suit patterned with baubles, presents and teddy bears. Although this was all sheer brilliance, bringing tears to Jack's eyes, the best feature had to be the feet of the suit, as they turned up at the toes and were topped with a golden bell. The suit even had a drop seat flap.

North proudly grinned, clearly in favour of his nightly attire. He closed the wooden double doors, walking towards a wet faced Jack that had collapsed in an armchair. After a few final giggles at North's jingling steps, Jack sighed and immediately went back to his previous reverie, suddenly too sad to laugh.

'Vell, I'm glad I amuse you so, my boy.' Said North, sitting in the chair next to Jack. 'But I get ze impression zhat you are not feeling qvite right, no? Vhy, if you vere your usual self you vould never have stopped laughing at my bells!' He roared, laughing and jiggling his raised feet like a big bearded baby.

Jack remained looking at the floor, but gave a slight smile. 'Yeah... I suppose I would have,' he considered with another sigh. He looked up to find two bright blue eyes filled with concern, encouraging him to go on. 'Well, lately I've been over thinking everything. Everything I do, everything I see, even other people's actions and the things they say to me. Like I need to know the reason for everything, or something? I know that tends to be considered normal, but... It's me, y'know? I'm supposed to be fun and carefree!' He continued – talking with his hands, pleadingly, wanting his fatherly figure to understand. 'After we defeated Pitch, everything was as normal. Snow, frost, ice, winter duties, snow ball fights, playing with the kids... But a few months ago I just started getting more and more worried and, I guess, a bit sad as well,' Jack said, his voice getting quieter towards the end as he looked down again. He felt pathetic. As though there was no point to what he was saying or feeling, but then again, maybe there wasn't.

North stroked his beard while he contemplated Jack's words, leaving no sound other than the jingle of an elf's hat as it ran past, outside the door. Rolling his eyes at the sound, North broke the silence, 'It sounds to me, m'boy, like you are growing tired of ze same old, same old, no?' When he saw Jack raise an eyebrow and nod slightly, he continued, 'I mean ve all do at times. Ve just need to remind ourselves of vhy ve do same old. But zhat doesn't give good reason for ze constant vorrying.' His brow furrowed as they both pondered this. Then North's eyes lit up, 'vhat about you tell me vhat zhings you've been zhinking about most, yes?' He asked, hopeful that the answer would get them somewhere.

'Ummm... well, i-it started out with the things I used to think about quite often beforehand. Things like my family and past life, how Jamie and Sophie are basically my new family and what I'll do when they grow up. Or even worse, when they're n-not there any-anymore,' he spoke in a small voice, his voice wavering at points.

North nodded in understanding, 'The life you're living is a long vun, Jack. People are going to come and go, and ve just have to do our best to accept zhat. It's easier said zhan done, I know, but vhen their time comes you vill learn to tolerate it and remember ze good times,' he smiled. 'Is zhere anyzhing else?'

Jack leaned back in his seat and confessed, 'Yeah, actually, there is. Lately I've been going to schools a lot.'

North's eyebrows shot up and he gave out a laugh, 'Jack Frost? At school?' He chuckled.

Jack smiled and shook his head. 'I've not been taking the classes, if that's what you mean! Jamie usually asks me to go to school with him to pull pranks and stuff and I usually say "no" 'cause there's always somewhere that's due a snow day. But one afternoon I saw him get off the school bus and three older kids were pushing him around and being generally horrible to him. So that night when he asked, I said "yes" 'cause I wanted to get a very icy revenge on those kids,' he smiled slyly. 'Anyway, I went and turned out to be oddly intrigued by the whole thing. So I went a few more times with him and found myself checking out high schools the next week. I don't really remember much about high school from my past life – I'm not sure if I even went to one – but I imagine it sucked seeing as it was centuries ago.' North smirked at the mention of high school and Jack assumed that it was because he, the boisterous Guardian of fun, was interested in school. He went on, 'it just got me thinking: _I don't remember having any friends my age._ I was always playing with younger kids, which I love, but... I feel like I missed out on being a normal teenager.' On that last note he exhaled slowly and leaned his elbows on his thighs and head in his hands, sweeping through his slivery-white hair. 'And I won't ever be able to fix that,' He added.

North patted him on the back consolingly. 'Jack m'boy, you have long time to go. You v_ill_ get a chance to right zhat wrong, at some point.'

'Do you really think so?' He asked. He knew it was a silly question. This was North. He was always sure.

How?

'I feel it in my belly,' he smiled reassuringly.

They both stood and Jack accepted North's bear hug. 'Sorry for bothering you with my strange thoughts so close to Christmas,' He laughed.

'Don't be silly, I always have time for you, my friend! But you look very tired Jack, you should go sleep.' When Jack nodded in reply, he said, 'Goodnight my boy.'

'G'night, North.'

With that, he sauntered out of the Globe room and back through the pandemonium going on in the workshop; flying toys, stupid elves throwing cookies in each other's mouths and being generally stupid, and yetis grumbling to each other in their deep gibberish whilst running around making toys. He absentmindedly dragged his staff along a row of elves, and they all froze after a musical flourish sounded from the bells on their hats. Jack then climbed the flight of spiralling stairs in the centre of the room, and walked along the hall until he came across the room he'd been occupying.

He was about to enter when he heard an anxious whispering voice carry from another room. He turned and saw an ever so slightly open door that was allowing a sharp streak of light to cut through the dark red carpet.

He lifted himself into the air slightly and hovered over to the door, so as to not make any noise. As he got closer he identified the voice's owner as Tooth (The Tooth Fairy). He dropped his guard and opened the door fully, expecting to find Tooth flitting towards him in her chirpy manner to get a look at his teeth. However what he did find was a very upset and panicked Tooth frantically whispering with a teenage girl that was wearing a short dress with a puffy feather skirt, in several pastel colours. Her dress would not have been noticeable if weren't for the puffy skirt and multi coloured feathers sailing and drifting around the room. Also such minor things as dress choice weren't exactly the first thing you'd spot on a girl who had magnificently bright butterfly wings casting high from her back.

That wasn't the weirdest part of the scene in front of him though. There was a dead child lying on the bed behind them.

**A/N: **Sorry for the dark cliff hanger there but all shall be explained next chapter! If there was anything you were unsure of or you liked it, please let me know, I'd love some feedback! Pwetty pwetty pwease review :3 Hopefully I'll be able to update fairly often, but I have two sets of exams coming up in the first half of this year which sucks royal hippogriff (I love you if you got that reference).


	2. The Shadows, Plan and Parade

House of Spirits

(ROTG fan fiction)

**A/N: **Hello! I respect those writers that update basically daily, I'm struggling with it weekly. I'm trying to update every Monday, so I shall test myself and do my best for you lovely people! It's not as long as the last, but the end was approaching and it felt right to leave it there. Hope you like it and remember to review and everything! :)

**Chapter 2: The Shadows, Plan and Parade.**

'Jack?' Tooth breathed.

He was oblivious to her words. His eyes were directed towards the small delicate body on the bed, though they were glazed over. He offered just as much movement as the child.

'Jack? I know you're in shock, you have every reason to be, I can imagine how horrific this scene must look. And I'm not going to lie, this situation is,' She shivered, 'v-very much so. But you need to let me explain.'

Exhaling a shaky chilling breath, his legs slowly carried him over to the opposite side of the bed from the two girls, edging further and further away from his staff. He kneeled down next to the child and Tooth and the butterfly winged girl exchanged nervous glances. The little boy lay on his right side, facing towards Jack. His face was scrunched up in a grimace with one arm hiding half of it and the other tucked close to his chest. He'd been cowering in terror. His fists had been clenched, leaving markings of his nails etched deep in the shockingly pale skin of his palms. The sight made everything inside Jack scream. With all of his remaining sanity he willed himself to reach out to the child, wanting to change their position to that of a peaceful rest.

Tooth's urgent hands push his back, 'That's not a good idea,' She whispered, eyes wide.

Bewilderment dawned Jack's expression. 'Look at him,' anger crept into his voice, 'he's gone, but obviously went in pain. No one deserves to remain that way, even though they've left.'

Tears stung Tooth's eyes as she stole a glance at the body and abruptly turned away, her face contorted in pain. 'I know, but he may not even have left us yet. I didn't check his pulse because when I first went to touch him strange things happened. Frightening things,' she quietly said.

Jack's voice and expression softened, 'I'm listening.'

Tooth found herself out on the field collecting teeth. Tonight was a busy night. She had been frantically zipping through the streets somewhere in South Los Angeles (having been just about everywhere in the world she had come to notice that she didn't know any of the smaller regions' names, but she did know that the 7th of September was 'Love Your Teeth Day' in the People's Republic of China). Right now all she knew was that a premolar lay under a young boy's pillow, somewhere in these streets. Her vision of the tooth's location grew stronger and her flight speed increased with every sharp turn. She made it to the boy's window within two minutes of her last stop.

'_Still got it,' _she mused to herself, doing a little dance, and then hoisted the window open slightly. She flitted inside as quietly as she could and gently lifted the pillow, retrieving the shiny little tooth. It was when she brought it up to her face to study its condition, wondering what memories it held, that everything started turning strange. The tooth began to rot away and the night light next to the bed continuously flickered, changing colours at an unbelievable pace. The room grew darker and the little boy started to squirm. Some of his curls stuck to his neck and forehead with sweat.

Tooth hugged the blackening premolar to her chest and started hyperventilating. 'What's happening?' she choked aloud, adding silently, _'this poor boy! His tooth? His memories!' _She steadied her breathing and slowly edged towards the boy, whose hands kept snapping up to his face as though he was cowering in terror. Tooth reached out an unsure shaking hand and went to touch his. As soon as her fingertips made contact she whipped them back in pain, as a burning sensation rushed from them to her shoulder. In the same second the boy bolted upright and a single, long, internally stirring scream ripped from his throat. The wind hectically rushed around the room ripping posters off the walls and whirling around the wind chimes with clatters and rings, everything building up an unbearable racket. This continued for what felt like hours. Yet no one came. Tooth was left to curl up in the corner with her hands over her ears as she sobbed.

The window slammed shut and the boy shakily lay back down. Tooth only just realised that the shadows around the room had spread, engulfing everything, including the boy, but her. Fury beat through her as fast as her wings, while she flew in reverse towards the boy and glared at the shadows that were now hesitantly retreating.

The boy was lying on his side with his back to her. She noticed that his front still seemed to be wrapped in darkness. As she turned around and stepped closer, arching her back as she leaned on her tiptoes to see his face, everything inside her twisted sickeningly. The shadows had not simply stretched from their original places on the walls. They had been, and still were, expelling from the boys wide but lifeless open eyes like tears. They continued to slither down his bed, to then swarm across the floor.

Even in her world of belief, spirits and Guardians, Tooth had never thought this possible. It was awful. She didn't even know what "it" was, but she knew "who". This poor innocent child was targeted by the supposedly defeated Pitch Black.

The window opened and the shadows snaked out of the room.

'I then waited until everything settled and summoned Baby Tooth to search for the nearest fellow spirit, who just so happened to be Natalie,' she sniffed, wiping away her tears with one hand while the other gestured towards the stranger with wings.

From the moment he walked in the feather skirted girl had been staring at Jack with her head tilted as though he was something she was investigating. Her blue piercing eyes were still divulging deep into his conscience. Her gaze didn't even break at the mention of her name.

'Hi,' Jack offered with a wave of his hand, and then hurriedly continued, 'We should tell North and the others. Why didn't you-'

'He has a plan for you, Frost.' Natalie stood with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed mysteriously and one eyebrow raised.

'-do that straight away? How long have you two been – wait what? Who has a plan for me?' Jack snapped his head round to face her.

'The big boss himself, Man in the Moon.' She pondered, 'and some other unknown force. I can't gather any specifics, but from what I can tell I think it shall be very interesting indeed,' she smiled mischievously.

Jack's eyes closed to suspicious slits. 'How do you know?' Despite himself jealousy twisted his words, 'He never speaks to me, and he's only ever helped me once; why would he have a so-called grand plan for his forgotten creation?'

Natalie's mysterious and snarky facade wavered. 'He's never forgotten you. He'd just been waiting until the enemy was at its strongest to make you a Guardian, and his new plan is a recent one. It's his way of making it up to you.'

Jack's anger faded, though he didn't reply to her words. Instead he pointed out, 'you said that you couldn't "gather any specifics" but you obviously know a fair deal about this "plan". What was it you said? Oh yeah, that it would be "very interesting indeed"?' He air quoted her. 'What do you know and how?'

'I'll explain whilst we find North. Man in the Moon knows how long that'll take in this huge place.' She shook her head with one hand on her hip.

Just as soon as the words left her mouth a crash echoed down the hall and through the still open door. The entire building shut down into darkness. 'VILL YOU STOP MESSING VITH ZE LIGHTS?!'

A parade of guffawing elves scampered down the hall way with flashlights under their chins.

Jack, Tooth and Natalie exchanged solemn glances before hurrying to the door.

If the situation was as normal they all would have smiled and laughed with each other before running to him, but this was far from normal. A young boy was either dead or dying. The cause for this was free to continue its work. Pitch Black's return was evident and he seemed to have developed his powers to the most extreme and cynical lengths. Also, the Man in the Moon had a drastic proposal for Jack. To top it all off, this "plan" could only go one way or another:

It could change his immortal life for the better, along with all the other Guardians and spirits', bringing happiness to all who deserved it.

Or it would end up in the whole world being plunged into a haunting darkness that couldn't be escaped.

And Jack had no idea.


	3. The Lake by the Hill

House of Spirits

(ROTG fan fiction)

**A/N:** Thank you for the favourites and everything, you are awesome! Please, please, please review because it really does help keep me going. Anyway, hooray for the longest chapter yet! I must admit that it's my favourite so far. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Chapter 3: The Lake by the Hill, Between Day and Night**

The light rain doused the fiery leaves of the autumn trees that surrounded the lake. When Charlie had first come here she'd cared not for the stepping stones and had instead strode through the dark water with purpose. On her first return in her sleep she had been overwhelmed with sorrow, loss and the sting of failure. But after so many dreams of revisiting the path through this forest and lake, she had grown numb. In fact, she was now relaxed.

Her long blonde hair hung damply down her back and some of the curls clung to her nightdress. She gently leaped to the first stepping stone. After padding onto a few more she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting the drops run along her cheeks and nose. Because of her traumatic drowning in this lake she should have been terrified, but now her dreams no longer consisted of the details of that night. They simply consisted of peaceful numbness in the same scenery. She hopped onto the next stepping stone and found that it was big enough to be a safe but mossy seat. She sat with her legs crossed on the stone and looked down at her bare feet. In doing so, her hair fell into curtains on either side of her face while raindrops splashed on her neck and ran down her back. She closed her eyes and hummed light notes that soothed her.

Letting the parts of her that weren't completely numb or insane (her heart and voice) lead the way, she sang lightly in her Scottish accent,

'Over the hill lies a peaceful place,  
full of love,  
and full of grace.

When sleep comes and my body is still,  
I take a trip  
over the hill.

That's where the sun sets every night.  
In my dreams  
I like to bathe in its light.

When emptiness gapes and it can't be filled  
I take a trip  
over the hill.

That's where I feel warm and safe;  
over the hill,  
where my loved ones wait.'

Half way through, a sweet voice had began chiming along with her. She didn't startle for she knew exactly who it was. Her little sister, Annie, approached her on the water, away from the setting sun. She walked across it as though it was hard floor, but the water rippled with each step. She wore one of her best frilly dresses and black polished shoes, and was hugging her teddy bear Alfred. A small bow sat at a tilt upon her head and it bobbed along with her short mousey brown curls.

'Why are you out in your night dress, Charlotte? Will you not catch an awful cold?' asked Annie the always curious.

Charlie breathed a sad laugh and smiled. 'This is a dream, Annie. You're no longer here. I _was_ no longer here. I wish we both could be as we were back then, at a time when everything didn't have a double meaning. It's okay for you, you're over the hill now; for good. But I have the world to provide for, including its future which – according to Natalie – is fatal, I have all the school work and social stuff that comes with being at the House of Spirits, then I have all of the weight of my past and mum's death, especially mum's death.' She looked up to see her little sister frowning in confusion. 'You know that those stories mum used to tell us, the ones about spirits, are real, right?' she asked hopefully. She wasn't sure if she would have the patience to explain everything if she didn't.

Annie nodded, 'Yes. I know what happened to mum too, what that man did to her. The Boo-'

'Yes. Can we please not talk about the details so directly? I know it's been centuries, but it still hurts,' she swiftly interrupted.

Annie just nodded again and sat down on the water, mirroring her sister. A calm silence stretched out, one full of thought. She picked at end of Charlie's night dress, and looked up into a pair of big eyes that were the same as her own, curious and full of questions. 'Who's Natalie?' she wondered.

Charlie's eyes lit up at the thought of her friend and she told Annie about her. She remembered that the Spirit of Spring had always been her sister's favourite. Charlie used to make daisy chains with her, teach her how to paint and draw flowers and Easter eggs, but Annie's favourite activity had been the family tradition of going to their Grandparents' house on Easter. Every year, they would go to bottom of the big hill in their estate and throw an egg painted with the design of their wish over it. Annie was a bright eight year old, not very tall but extremely smart for her age. Yet her brains and sense of realism didn't dash her sense of hope. Spring was about hope and new beginnings and she adored it.

'… Best of all, she can tell the future!' Charlie brightly finished, grinning at the pretty little awestruck face before her.

'_Really?_' She gasped.

'Yes, in a way. Natalie can foresee your path in life and she can offer you a fresh start when she believes it to be right, but it's up to you if you want to seize the opportunity she gives. If someone has a destined path – which tends to be chosen by Man in the Moon – she gets to be all-knowing and watch it play out, but she can't interfere.'

Annie was fascinated, mind racing with times when Natalie may have helped her. Then she noticed something, 'that must be rather irritating: knowing what's right for someone but not being allowed to do to anything about it.'

'Kind of like keeping a secret,' Charlie said in an off tone that lingered with the mystery of her mum's death.

Another long silence endured, but Annie broke it when she remembered where her question was heading, 'what did she tell you? You said it was something about a "fatal future"?'

'She said that she only knew two things, one being those words: "fatal future". And two was that it had something to do with-' she cleared her throat and forced the words out '-Pitch Black (The Boogeyman). She's one of my best friends so I don't want to think that she's lying, but I know her too well to not notice it. I can tell she knows more, _a lot_ more. I know, she can't tell us, but I'm worried about her having to keep it to herself. She seems genuinely terrified about it. We all have our secrets but hers carries the weight of the world.' Charlie took her sister's hands in hers and brought them up to her lips and whispered, 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to face my past very soon, to try and figure everything out.'

Annie gazed up at her and simply replied, 'it's about time. Keeping it all locked up isn't fair on you, or on mum neither.'

'I know,' Charlie sighed and kissed her sister's hands. 'Who knows, it may even have something to do with Natalie's secret. Maybe he really does have it all planned out,' she said, looking up at the slither of moon rising from the opposing setting sun.

'I'm sure he does. I'm also sure he won't leave you all to fight this alone,' Annie smiled, 'After all, there must be some higher power that's bringing me to you every night, to your favourite place. Maybe it's the Sandman,' Annie giggled.

Charlie shook her head and raised her eyebrows. 'It could be, but he's a busy man,' she chuckled. 'I'm sure he has plenty enough children to attend to. We teenage and grown up spirits are probably the least of his worries.'

'Well someone has been bringing you back here. Someone wants you to figure out your _true_ past; all of mum's secrets; why she died; anyone that may have been involved,' Annie said strongly, but hesitantly. She knew her sister had very particular views on the subject.

'Of course there was someone involved,' she snapped. 'And no normal person at that,' she paused. 'It was someone who knew who or _what_ she was, and killed her because they saw her as a threat,' she choked. The rain had picked up with Charlie's anger and now lashed at the water and streamed down her face. Annie, however, remained dry.

'You don't know that, Charlotte. No one does,' she whispered, willing herself not to believe it. 'She was sick, really sick – she saw things, heard voices, broke things, started causing fires and dreamed up terrors,' Annie whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. 'She wasn't herself anymore. She wasn't right in the head.'

Rain and tears mixing on her face, Charlie choked back, 'You're right, she wasn't herself, in part. But that wasn't because of illness or insanity. Someone was doing that to her, controlling her.'

'How do you know?' Annie shouted through the mask of rain and tears, not wanting to hear any more of these cynical ideas.

'Because I saw them too!' Charlie shrieked. 'I saw them too,' she repeated, more calmly.

'_What?_' Annie uttered in bewilderment.

'The figures in the fire, the shadows, in the mirrors; I saw all the things she saw.' She exhaled a shaky breath, and the rain abruptly stopped. 'And sometimes I heard the voices, when I was near her,' she whimpered, recalling the cold whispers that had turned to roars and shrieks every few sentences of torturous bile.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Little Annie whispered, feeling the littlest she had ever felt.

Charlie scoffed, 'and get taken to a big rickety hospital for the insane, as well? Causing you more pain and grief?' She looked down at her little sister with sad and tired, but loving, eyes. 'I don't think so,' she breathed.

'Do you still hear them? Or see things?' She hiccupped, shuffling closer to her sister.

Charlie lifted then cradled her in her crossed lap, against her chest. 'No, not since the night of her death,' she smiled sadly and pushed some curls behind her sister's ear.

'And yours,' Annie said in a small voice.

'Yes, and mine,' she replied quietly. They sat in silence of speech and mind, whilst rocking back and forth in their embrace. A light breeze had picked up, and was rustling the autumn leaves and Charlie's long honey blonde hair. Only the tip of the sun remained in view but it still casted a beautiful light across the water, and rippled reflections on the stones under surface. Whereas the rising moon engulfed the trees in silver and caused some of the pebbles underwater to glow. This was Charlie's favourite time to be here, the last moment between night and day. She loved the contrasting gold and silver. Everything about the place and time inspired her.

'Over the hill, we make daisy chains everyday and you sing me songs every night,' Annie said contently, eyes closed.

'That sounds lovely,' Charlie whispered soothingly. 'Just about every day I do homework and have to tell the ten year old girls at the House to give me my bras back.' They both giggled, Charlie feeling genuinely sorry for herself.

'What about at night?' Annie asked sweetly, whilst braiding the little end of Charlie's hair.

'I tend to sneak up to the attic to dance. After we cleared it out and cleaned it a few years ago, everyone else forgot about it. No one really knew what to do with it. So I use it as a sanctuary, so to speak, a place to let out my emotions. When I dance I channel everything into it and get lost in it, it helps me forget. It's difficult to sleep when you can't forget…' she drifted off, staring at the last piece of sun in sight.

'I thought spirits didn't need sleep?' Annie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her face puckered up adorably.

Charlie laughed at her cute expression and explained, 'We need to every so often, but at the House of Spirits we try to sleep every night. Because Man in the Moon gave us more human qualities, we need the sleep more than, for example, the Guardians. Also, if we didn't sleep like humans we'd get exhausted extremely quickly, because we need to do our duties as spirits, go to school and handle all the social and academic parts of it, and do all of our jobs around the House – and that's a _big_ house.'

Annie nodded and came out with, 'I'm not a big fan of autumn.'

'Love you too!' Charlie yelled, whilst tickling her sister in pay back.

'Okay, okay, okay!' She shrieked in defeat, 'I'm your number one fan!' She shouted holding up her hands in surrender.

'Thank you!' Charlie grinned cheekily in her set poker face. After a short silence she held the grin and said, 'I'm not a big fan of spring…'

'That's a lie!' She huffed, playfully punching her sister's shoulder, 'Take that back!'

Pleased that the bait was taken, Charlie put the poor girl's mind to rest, 'I was joking!'

Annie crossed her arms and jerked her head away.

Charlie smiled innocently and batted her eye lashes until a laugh forced its way out of Annie. She looked over at the sun then back at Annie, and noticed that she was fading. 'It's time for you to go, isn't it?' She asked solemnly, feeling much like the younger sister.

'Yes, unfortunately,' She half smiled. 'It's unlikely that this will be the last time I'll see you though. Even if it is, you'll still have me in here… and here,' she said, pointing to Charlie's heart and mind in turn. She embraced her tightly.

Charlie smiled and nodded, and returned the hug with a kiss on the cheek.

Feeling no need to say official goodbyes to one another, the whistling breeze and the drip-drop of the ripples under Annie's feet were the only noises made as she walked towards the peaking sun. She grew more transparent as she went until she finally vanished, with a burst of golden light, over the hill.

Charlie woke up to the familiar warmth of her cotton bed sheets and the instinctive urge to shield herself from the light with her pillow. 'Will you little people stop. Opening. My blinds?!' She growled. She groaned at the high pitched giggles sounding from outside her door and limply threw the covers off of her. She forced herself onto her feet and stretched her back with a series of yawns and curses. As she waddled to the bathroom she shared with Natalie, she picked up the radio and turned it on.

After a successful shower – full body wash, freshly shaved legs, two hair washes and a beautiful rendition of 'Teenage Dirtbag' by Wheatus – Charlie skipped out the bathroom in her robe, to choose what to wear. She settled on her black ankle lace-up boots, dark grey knee-high socks and denim shorts with an army camouflage patterned shirt tucked in. She blow dried her until it was damp, and then left it to fully dry into her natural long curls. Just as the hair drier was switched off, her stomach imitated a dying whale and so she headed down the many stairs for breakfast.

Upon entering the kitchen-diner she could tell that something strange was going on. There was always gossip going around, but this was ridiculous. Every single student spirit in the House was huddled around the big wooden circular table, feverishly talking and shouting, laughing and giggling.

Charlie walked around the table but couldn't see Natalie anywhere. She tapped Sia, a summer spirit, on the shoulder and asked her where their spring spirit friend was. Everyone had heard, and all of a sudden every voice in the room shot out at her eagerly with the answer. Covering her ears she yelled, 'I asked only one person for a reason, guys!'

The room fell unwillingly silent, and huffily allowed Sia to deliver the news. 'We have a new member joining us,' she giggled and all of the girls joined in, while the boys rolled their eyes and younger ones pretended to gag and throw up. She continued, 'Natalie didn't say who, but she did say that she's at the North Pole with him now and that they have some "grave news" to tell us when they get here.'

Charlie frowned while she soaked it all in. 'Do you have any ideas as to who he could be?' she raised an eyebrow at the flustered females. 'For some reason I don't think it's the unknown "grave news" that's got you all giggling and blushing,' she smirked, her Scottish accent bold amongst the majority.

Nixie, the water spirit, was about to answer when she was cut off by Devlin (nicknamed "Devil" due to his fire wielding abilities), 'Well, those of us who have sense _were_, in fact, coming up with ideas on what the "grave news" could be. The flapping idiotic bunch over there however…' As he trailed away all of the girls except Charlie and Nixie rose up to him, yelling.

Nixie had startling turquoise eyes, white-blonde wavy hair that fell to her shoulders and she wore denim Capri's, a Nirvana t-shirt, bulky hi-tops and held her long silver spear in her left hand. The many bands and bracelets on her wrists shook along with the table as she set her spear down and thunderously banged her fists against it, silencing the racket. She was a perfectly lovely person, but was known for appearing quite moody, tomboyish, and definitely not someone you wanted to anger. She turned to Charlie with a sweet smile, 'Natalie's bringing him back tonight to meet us all and move in, then we need to train him over the next three weeks so he can start at the new term. As for the "grave news" that's all we know. We don't know for sure who he is but we're guessing he's the only teenage Guardian, seeing as they're at the North Pole.'

Realisation dawned on her and everything made sense. 'Jack Frost,' she stated with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

All of the girls began their chorus, 'I saw him in Canada once, and he has the most amazing eyes!'

'I heard his hair is as soft as snow!' one chimed in.

'I was told he blushes blue! How cute is that?' another squealed.

'I heard that he was the one behind Pitch Black's defeat! He must be so brave and strong!' exclaimed another with a giggle, whilst, at the opposite side of the table, Charlie flinched at the Nightmare King's name.

And so it continued:

'His eyes-'

'His hair-'

'His attitude-'

'His courage-'

'His smile-'

'His eyes-'

'_I dread to think of what they'll be like when he gets here_,' Charlie shuddered, and went to dig around the cupboards for some coco pops.

**A/N:** So the girls seem pretty excited for the new member, eh? :L I'm sure a certain Scottish blonde shall warm up to him... Sorry there's no Jack in this one, but I hope you liked it nonetheless. You will get to see what's been happening with him in the next chapter! ^_^


	4. She'll Need you, She'll Need Frost

House of Spirits

(ROTG fan fiction)

**A/N: Jeez, this one's yet even longer than the last! I hope that doesn't put you off :S  
Again, I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you like it too. It should answer some questions, perhaps prompt a few new ones and moves the plot on for Jack, so here you go! (Also, I do not own the rights to 'Rise of the Guardians' or any music mentioned in this fanfic, though I do recommend you check out the songs I put in ;) ).**

**Chapter 4: She'll Need You and She'll Need Frost**

Natalie placed the red handset back onto the main body of the retro phone. Her short brown pixie hair ruffled as she shook her head. _'How silly of me to expect her to be worried about the grave news, of course Sia would be more interested in the new guy,'_ she grumbled to herself. She was sitting in a brown leather armchair by the phone, at North's office desk. North sat opposite her with his head bowed in his hands while he breathed deeply. They had finished telling him everything about the attack on the boy and he needed time to soak it all in before he could make sense of it.

Straight after finding North they had wrapped the boy in the duvet of the bed he'd been on and then carried him to North's office. When they lifted him they found that he was frigid, frozen in place and his unnaturally cold temperature could be felt through the duvet. He now lay on the rug by the fire in the same pained position he'd been in since his shadowy encounter.

They had also summoned Bunnymund and Sandman, and fixed the lighting after the elves had brought darkness upon the whole workshop. Bunny stood with his arms crossed, looking down at his big feet in thought. Sandy was floating near the young victim with his head cocked to the side as he stared, trying to figure out what had been done to the boy using his powers. Jack was leaning against the mantel of the fireplace looking expectantly at North and Tooth did the same from the other side of the room.

North was completely lost. For once he had no plan and no enthusiasm. He felt helpless and suddenly drained. He had the knowledge and product of a terrifying event, dread of the evident repeats that were to come and a group of shaken spirits, and had no idea what to do with them all. After enduring the extremely depressing silence for twenty minutes or so, North cleared his throat and spoke. 'I say ve gazzer everyzhing ve know about ze boys condition and try to come up vith cause and reason using zhat,' he formally suggested.

The others nodded, thankful for the sign of action. Golden sand formed the images of a beating heart and thumbs up above Sandy's head.

Tooth sighed in relief, 'what else do you know, Sandy?'

In reply, the sand swirled into the form of the Boogeyman stooping over the child and feeding him nightmares with a sinister smirk.

Jack's upper lip twitched in hatred and North growled, 'Of course it's Pitch's vork. So ze child is alive and stuck in a nightmare, but appears and feels like a corpse?'

Sandy nodded solemnly.

For the first time since his arrival Bunny spoke up, 'That's really strange, even for Pitch. Why would he want his victims to seem dead when they're not?'

Jack glared at the shadows by the fireplace. 'Because he's a sadistic son of a-'

'Well we all know that,' Natalie quickly agreed before he could finish. He noticed something odd in her shifty eyes. It gave him the impression that she knew more about this than she was letting on, but he brushed it off when he remembered how playfully mysterious she had been with him earlier. _'She's just toying with me. That's just the way she is,'_ he assured himself.

North stood in the centre of the room, back in leader form. 'Seeing as zhere's not much more ve can figure out from ze little ve know, here's vhat ve're going to do: Jack and Bunny, you take ze child up to a bedroom on ze fourth floor but be careful not to touch him directly. Tooth and Sandy, I vant you on ze field at all times and to report anyzhing strange to me at vunce. If tonight's events repeat and you find anozher victim, take zhem to ze fourth floor,' North ordered them.

'This whole time, all that's been behind that mysterious door on the fourth floor are bedrooms?' Jack whined to North in disappointment. He'd always hoped that there'd be a really cool secret spy headquarters or even some sort of Narnia or something, but _bedrooms_? Why have bedrooms under lock and key? Most importantly, why tease him like that?! _'Not fair!'_ He shouted, finishing the rant in his thoughts.

'Vell now zhere are,' he said with a secretive wink.

Jack grinned as his childish optimism returned. 'Interesting…' he murmured, stroking an invisible beard and looking off into the distance theatrically.

Bunnymund rolled his eyes, 'of course I'd get stuck with him,' he muttered almost silently. Then suddenly he realised, 'won't we need a key or something?'

North smiled in his signature arm folded stance and said, 'Ve all shall be able to get through ze door.' Whooping and hi-fives sounded from above them and they looked up to see a band of giddy elves sitting on the highest shelf. 'Only ve _Guardians _vill gain entry,' he specified receiving squeaky groans. Then reality hit him and he did a double-take, 'vait, you're not even supposed to be in here! GET OUT!' He bellowed. The elves jolted and scampered off in different directions, bumping into each other and falling off shelves. He face palmed, but his expression took on one of amusement when he saw his comrades' curious looks.

As the Guardians all took in their leader's knowing grin they glanced at each other and shrugged – Jack thinking about the many times he'd tried to freeze and smash through the metal door to no avail. _'But no, it's cool. You can just OPEN IT.'_

The baby suited North peered over his shoulder and saw Natalie gazing through the frosted window at the moon, her wings drooping slightly. He turned back to find that the others were still there. 'Vell? Snap to it!' He commanded. As they all sprang into action and left, he placed a big hand on Natalie's shoulder. 'You have very special talents, I hear.'

She startled and snapped round to face him. 'What was that, sorry?' She asked politely.

North smiled and gave her his hand as she rose from the armchair. 'Tooth tells me you can foresee zhings?' he recalled while he guided her through to the Globe Room.

The feathers of her skirt brushed against each other and her wings occasionally flapped out of habit. The light sounds imitated the whispers of her well-held secrets. She nodded in acknowledgment, 'yeah, if a new beginning is on its way for any individual or group of people, I can tell what it is and roughly when it'll happen.' When they reached the Globe Room she gawked at the beauty of it. The lights were truly dazzling. The words continued to voice from her mouth even though her mind was somewhere else entirely, 'It's really difficult to keep it all to myself, though I somehow manage.' She walked around the globe brushing her fingers along the lights, which sent a tingling sensation up her arm. 'So… Is there any specific reason as to why you've brought me through here?' she stopped circling the globe as she asked, turning to face him curiously.

North gave out a small chuckle. 'Vell I thought you might know somezhing about zhis,' he said, looking up to the small open window in the domed roof.

In following his gaze her eyes met with the gleaming smile of the crescent moon, which seemed to be directing its light specifically on her. Its spotlight of recognition sent a memorable warmth through her and she prepared herself for what she knew was coming next; an immense load of information crashed into her from the shining beams but she held herself still and soaked it all in. Images of both familiar and unknown faces flashed through her mind, some with voices, some silent, many happy, and plenty upsetting. But everything the Man in the Moon was first showing her, she already knew:

_There was a vast Victorian mansion which she recognised as her home, the House of Spirits. Her conscience travelled through the towering main door and she zipped through the walls, floors and ceilings, passing scenes of joy, laughter and (frankly hilarious) immaturity. (Her favourite being Charlie and her in one of the smaller lounges thrashing their hair and jumping around from couch to couch to '__**Shock Horror'**__ by __**The View**__)._

_A_fter_ seeing similar moments from school, MiM showed her Jack Frost at his worst; pleadingly crying up to the white orb for answers, in fits of lonely tears, breaking down when more and more villagers passed straight through him and then scenes of him playing with his sister and her little friends in his past life. Throughout the whole ordeal his voice echoed through her head over the fuzzy background noise, '__I don't remember having any friends my age.__ I was always playing with younger kids… I feel like I missed out on being a normal teenager.'  
A strong wise voice followed, 'All of this you already know, but if you are all to fight and win the oncoming surge there is someone amongst you who must face their secrets…' The silvery reverbs continued into a dark pause. Natalie shook in the unsettling feeling of not knowing what she would see next, then suddenly jolted as scene after scene whipped past:_

_An aging mother yelled at her daughters to keep out of the shade, when playing in their garden. 'I wish she wasn't so… What's the word?' the youngest girl asked.  
'Superstitious?' the other replied, looking worriedly at the woman who was now glaring across the riverbank at nothing._

_Now the same woman shuffled around the house at night, holding a lantern in front of her. She was shaking and frantically whispering to herself. The younger girl's upset voice rang through Natalie's head as thunder and lightning struck noise and light through the eerie house, 'She was sick, really sick – she saw things, heard voices!'  
The woman turned and yelped, whipping out lit matches and hurling them in different directions and smashing the lantern in the middle of the room. As soon as the glass broke, golden smoke billowed and purple fire raged from the matches in all directions. With every flash of white light from outside, Natalie's way of seeing things changed. One minute she saw a crazed woman dancing around and setting everything alight and there was no golden smoke. Then the next the fire looked purple, the smoke was back, and the woman was firing small balls of green fire that also turned purple as they went through the smoke. As her vision kept changing she realised that the woman was fighting the shadows that kept swarming towards her and the doors to her daughters' rooms behind her.  
Natalie saw a black cloaked figure standing outside the window, guiding the shadows like puppets with a skeletal hand, with Pitch Black evilly smirking next to him._

_A few years had passed and she now recognised the eldest daughter as Charlie. Clothed only in her night dress, she bolted through the forest as fast as the rain was streaking down around her, and lightning crashed with unnatural force. More voices and short scenes were shown to Natalie while she flew after her:_

_'She was sick, really sick – she saw things, heard voices, broke things, started causing fires and dreamed up terrors!'  
'Someone was doing that to her, controlling her...'_

'_You can't go see her! We're not allowed to leave the house.'  
'Mum's in serious trouble, Annie, I have to. One day I'm sure you'll understand, for now I need you to safe and promise me that you'll always remember what's important. I love you,' Charlie whispered as she handed her sketchbook to her sister._

'_Stop with your childish obscenities, there is no hope for your mother. And you, Charlie, are meant to be a mature level headed woman!' snapped a stuffy old woman._

'_No, no! You can't take her away, you have no right; that place is like a prison!' Charlie wailed.  
'I have ev'ry right, lass. Yer mam lost hers when she lost her mind!' growled the Scottish man who snatched the papers off of the sobbing blonde and then rode away with her mum locked in the carriage._

'_I know you see him too, Charlie. Annie and you know of my powers, but only you can see the things I see; you're gifted, like me. He wants to twist our abilities and use the black magic to help Pitch Black block out the Man in the Moon and bring back the Dark ages for good. I'm running from him as we speak, don't try to find me or they'll find you. I'm speaking to you through your dreams to say goodbye and to apologise; I'm not going to have the strength to defend myself this time, which means he shall drain me of my life and powers, bringing them closer to their goal. You must hide and stay safe. If they get to you, they'll gain all the power they'll need to terrorise the Earth for the rest of its days. Please, both you and Annie, just stay safe. I love you both.'_

_The lightning was dangerously low, sparking electricity off of the wet treetops. They reached a rippling lake and Natalie watched in shock as Charlie waded through it with a mind too clouded to notice the conveniently placed rocks that dawned the surface. She grunted, growled, sobbed and screamed as she trashed through the water in hope of saving her mother. When she reached half way and her nightdress was soaked to see through, Pitch Black strode out of the shadows with sheer amusement plastered all over his face. He sickly grinned and sneered, 'she's already dead; already ours,' he let out a single laugh at her pained and angered expression then continued, 'and you're next.' He formed two whips out of black sand and aimed at her wrists. However they never got a chance to make contact.  
Natalie stared in horror as Charlie was engulfed in the light of the moon and a purple-white bolt of lightning crashed directly into her. Her burned body sizzled as it sank._

_The horrifying feed of memories ended with a light distant voice, 'As I told you earlier; it's time. The Guardian of Fun must join you for the young spirits and Guardians to unite, but the Spirit of Autumn must also face her past and bring forth her secrets. Only then, can he be defeated.' There was an echoing pause. 'He will need training and she will need your help to open up. She'll need you and she'll need Frost, please help her remember and don't let her get distracted. I have faith in you all.'_

She had been leaning on her tiptoes, into the moon's light. As the sensation of breaking the surface of water washed over her, she fell forward and North caught her. The panel in the roof closed over, shutting out the moon. 'Vhat did Man in Moon show you, child?' The bearded man asked with his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

She trembled as he sat her down in a chair by the globe. '_I just witnessed Charlie's death,_' was all that she was capable of thinking, but she knew she couldn't tell him about that. Sure, it wasn't to do with a new beginning so she technically could, but it wouldn't be fair on Charlie seeing as she was obviously very secretive about her past. Natalie knew that it also wasn't really any of her business but she couldn't help but have that '_why didn't she just tell me?_', mistrusted feeling. '_Also, what did he mean by 'she'll need Frost'? I don't see how he could help her with or relate to her situation…_' _She _scolded herself and tried to bring order to her jam-packed mind, '_you deal with these things all of the time, Natalie. Get it together.'_ She abruptly shook her head to clear the pestering thoughts and answered him, 'the same things he showed me earlier, before Tooth needed my help: everyday things around the House of Spirits and at school, and then,' she paused seeing the hope in his eyes. 'Do you _know _something?' she guessed, modelling an incisive and impressed expression on her pretty face.

'I vouldn't say zhat I know, no. But I sense and certainly_ hope_…' he nodded slowly with big eyes, expecting her to catch on.

She found North's hinting and attempts at subtlety amusing. 'MiM has a plan…' she said simply, imitating his expression and nodding to tease his hopes.

'Surrounding…?' he asked slowly and she giggled.

She mock sighed and shook her head, throwing her hands up, 'well lots of people! There are just too many to mention!' His expression in return read, '_stop toying with me young lady_', so she laughed and sighed in defeat, 'fine, yes! Frosty the white haired non-snowman is joining us at the House!'

North boomed with a laugh, 'YES! Zhis vould solve his recent problems, he vill be so very happy, I'm sure!' He lifted her into a bear hug, leaving her legs uselessly dangling and her arms locked to her sides.

'I'm sure it will be a nice change and new experience for him,' she croaked as he put her down, 'but unfortunately he's not joining us at the best time.'

North's smile turned upside down, 'vhat makes you say so?' he asked, rather flabbergasted. 'Surely at zhis grave time of vorry for ze children a distraction like zhis is vhat he needs, no?'

'I wish it could be a distraction from the tragedy but I doubt it,' she stopped for a few seconds to think of a way of explaining it to him without giving away the key knowledge of the terrible future that she knew was coming. As she did so Jack and Bunny returned from the infamous fourth floor.

They saw her worried face and Bunny asked, 'what's up?'

North beamed at her with anticipation. She could imagine him pleading like a child, '_can I? Can I? Can I?'_ She sighed and nodded.

'Ve have great news for Jack!' he hollered.

Jack, who had been lost in thought by the globe, snapped to his attention. 'What is it?' he asked, excited for a moment. 'Wait a minute, is this your idea of "great" or mine?' he added, pointedly.

'Both, m'boy! Natalie says you now have place at House of Spirits!' he announced gleefully, doing jazz hands and shaking one of his belled feet.

Jack stood motionless in surprise as he processed it. The more he thought about it, the bigger his smile grew. 'So I get to be a normal teenager again and live a regular life for a while? I get to be seen by everyone?'

Natalie smiled at his joy. 'If you accept,' she reminded, 'you will continue to turn human – the process usually takes about a week – but you will still be able to uncover your powers and immortal form by using your staff.'

This sounded amazing to him, but something she said caught his attention, 'what do you mean I will "continue" to turn human?'

'As soon as MiM chooses you to join us, he starts the process. You probably haven't noticed because it tends to be a slow change at first and has probably only been a change of mind so far, like developing human tendencies; like your constant fidgeting-'

'And your over thinking,' North chimed in.

Jack nodded in understanding and let her continue telling about life at the House. 'You'll need to sleep at least two full nights a week but we'll encourage you to get more because daily life at the House can get pretty exhausting, it'll be especially so for you since you're just starting. Every day up until the new semester we'll teach about being a modern teenager and high school, and the recent things we've done in class because I'm guessing it's been a long time since you did algebra?'

'Pffft, I don't even know if they had it a few centuries ago or if I had an education at all,' he admitted, though the excited smile never left his face.

Natalie nodded, 'that's okay, we'll get everything covered. Every school day, you'll need to split your duties as a winter spirit and the Guardian of Fun between the morning and when you get home, but at the weekend you can do it whenever and the rest will be free time, apart from homework unfortunately.'

'The whole educational part of this is probably going to suck, but I can't wait for the rest of it,' he beamed.

Natalie laughed, 'so that's a "yes"?'

Jack looked at her incredulously, 'of course "that's a "yes""!' He somersaulted in the air and then flew up to her when he realised, 'this is that "plan" you were talking about, isn't it?' he smiled at her deviousness.

She was about to answer when Bunny piped up, 'sorry to put a downer on this for you,' he said to Jack then turned to the other two, 'but why on earth is Man in the Moon letting him do this when we kind of have a _crises_ going on?'

'That's the bit I was getting to. You see… MiM showed me what would come of the world after Pitch's plan unfolds and… As you can imagine, it's not pretty. And all of that turning around happens to have quite a bit to do with you, Jack, joining us. MiM wants the Guardians and the House of Spirits to unite for this battle… And this one must be final?' she finished, nervously questioning herself, wringing her hands together and biting her lip. What if she said too much? She felt like a kid at school that was making up an excuse on the spot for something they did and was just waiting to get shouted at.

However, North's face split into a determined grin, 'zhen final ve'll make it!' he roared.

'That reminds me,' Natalie said to Jack, 'we'll be training you on battle technique and strategy, and how to fight as a team with all of the many different spirits at the House. We'll be prepared before we face Pitch, we'll have to be.'

'That sounds awesome. Just don't put me with a fire guy,' he joked. When he saw her face, he stopped chuckling and turned serious, 'oh god… There's a fire spirit isn't there?'

Natalie laughed, 'it's fine, Devlin's a nice guy and we wouldn't put you two against each other in training, though we may get you to work together.'

Jack nodded in relief. 'So when are we going?' He grinned expectantly.

'I said I'd bring you this evening, and the moon's out so I'm guessing soon. Wait, how is it night already?'

'Vell, ze incident happened qvite late in ze morning and you vere vith Man in Moon for long time too,' North replied. He checked a golden pocket watch that was in the chest pocket of his pyjama suit. 'It's nearly eight o'clock, California time,' he specified.

'Do you have anything you need to do before we leave,' Natalie asked Jack, who immediately and vigorously shook his head. She turned to North with a sweet smile. 'Could we maybe, perhaps, please, please use a snow globe to get there?' she begged whilst batting her eyelashes. 'I mean, it'll be such a long and tiresome journey if we were to fly all the way from the North Pole,' she reasoned.

'Okay, child. Only 'cause you asked nicely. See, Jack? She _asked nicely_,' he emphasised, handing a glittering ornamental globe to a satisfied Natalie.

'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' Jack waved him off. He then looked up to see his reaction and was shocked to find his big blue orbs to be teary. Jack ran up to him and hugged him. 'You'll still see me all the time, big guy. After all, we've got a battle to win, right?' Jack tried to reassure him.

'I hope so; I mean, zhat I vill see you and zhat ve vin. But zhis isn't about me. Zhis vill be good for you,' he said will an honest smile. 'Goodbye for now, Jack my boy.'

'See you soon, North,' he replied and walked towards Natalie who was standing ready in the middle of the room. He saluted Bunny with a cheeky wink and a, 'g'bye kangaroo,' which earned merely a grunt and nod in return.

'Zhank you, Natalie, for all your help and insight,' North acknowledged.

'It was my pleasure, we're finally getting somewhere,' she said, smiling at each of the present Guardians and earning the three back.

'Goodbye,' North yelled as Natalie shouted 'House of Spirits', smashed the globe on the floor and they disappeared into the white and blue portal. 'I told him I could feel it in my belly,' he said contently, and then the room settled into a silence that Bunny soon broke:

'Seriously mate, what's up with your pyjamas?'

**A/N: What did you think? Pwetty pwease leave reviews, after all I've been reawwy ill the past few days *pouty face and puppy eyes*... But in all seriousness, I'd really like to know if people are reading this and what they think. Thank you to the people who have already, and to readers in general for being interested. From the rate I'm going at this'll be novel length, which isn't such a bad thing, right?  
Anyway, until next Monday's update! :)**


	5. The Makeover-ess & the Best Entrance

House of Spirits

(ROTG fan fiction)

**A/N: Thank you for the new reviews, follows and favourites, you're all amazing! So because you're so lovely, I thought I'd give you all a wee bonus update! ^_^**

**Chapter 5: The Evil Makeover-ess & the Best Entrance**

'Can you pass the curling iron?' Sia called out to no one in particular.

She was handed them and went straight to work at the back of Cassidy's gloriously red hair.

'Really, Sia,' she objected in her sweet Irish accent, 'this isn't necessary.'

The summer spirit pouted into the mirror in front of the seated girl and wiggled her red polished nails. 'Of course it is! We have a new arrival; it's nice to look nice!'

Cassidy was going to insist she be released but then decided it was no use. Sia was far too determined and if she tried to run away all of the other girls would have blocked the door and tackled her with makeup and polished claws. It was madness; girls scurried around the room in bare feet and towels, half dressed, fully dressed, in heels, hardly dressed; clothes and accessories soared through the air in every direction and sent sharp dings ringing when they hit off of the ceiling light. It was chaos but they didn't care, they just swarmed and pushed around the few mirrors in the room. A wind spirit and an urban spirit were even having a minor cat fight over a hair dryer. Sure she was a girl and enjoyed girly things, but Cassidy thought this was ridiculous! And it was all for a guy that may not have even turned out to be who they thought it was!

Sia nipped her finger on the curlers and shuffled away in her heels, whining, to the bathroom for water. This was her chance – or so she thought. She turned around to find the four other girls who were giving makeovers glaring at her and giving her the '_I'm watching you_' gesture. She faced the mirror again. She had to admit her eye liner was nice with the red lip stick that was forced upon her, but with the glittery blusher, dark eye shadow and tight curls Sia had started working on, it was all a bit much. As she decided that she'd re-plait her hair when she got out of this hairspray gas chamber, she noticed Charlie poking her head through the door and subtly waving her over. She mouthed, '_come with me if you want to live._'

Cassidy checked on the primed guards around the room then mouthed back, '_how?_'

Charlie nodded, held up her finger signalling '_wait a second_', and closed the door.

Cassidy waited in complete perplexity. '_Oh god, what's she going to do?_' she thought.

Just as soon as she inwardly face palmed, Charlie burst through the door and continued bull dozing towards her. She took her hand and shouted, 'I'M SAVING HER!' When they all looked dumbfounded, she took on a more "serious" tone, 'you have the right to remain getting ready. Anything you say doesn't really matter because I'm taking her anyway and there's no necessary court of law.'

Sia, wearing a short purple dress that showed off her long tanned legs, huffed as she re-entered the room. 'Fine then. If she doesn't want to look especially fabulous for the party and the new boy-'

At that Charlie immediately got her sass on, 'she's a strong, independent, naturally fine-ass Irish woman who don't need no man!' she shouted, snapping her fingers at her. Then she picked up on a key word, 'wait what "party"?'

Sia and all of the girls who weren't being held prisoner squealed and giggled. 'Jack will be the fiftieth member of the House of Spirits, in ten years. Plus, it'll be nice to give him a warm welcome!' she chirped.

'I hate to break it you, but you're all going for slightly more than "warm",' Cassidy pointed out and Charlie nodded and pouted with mock sass. All of the girls looked down at their short skirts, heels, and low neck lines and in reflections at their heavy makeup, blushing and snickering.

'A party's a party, right?' Sia giggled and the others excitedly clapped.

Noticing that the lunatics' minds were elsewhere, Charlie and Cassidy began to tip toe towards the door. Tanya, the urban spirit, and the Native American wind spirit called Iuana, were now blocking the door with a hair dryer each, aimed at them.

'Oh no you don't,' Sia sang as she took their hands and pulled them back.

Charlie threw her hands up, 'fine! But keep it decent, keep it subtle, that means no fake tan, no glitter and no dress showin' ma knickers!' she yelled finally, and some of the girls giggled at her Scottish way of saying "knickers".

'Agreed!' Sia triumphantly squeaked.

After half an hour of being plucked, brushed, smeared upon, and yelled at to "stop moving!", the two girls were pleasantly surprised by the outcome of their makeovers:

Charlie wore a cute black bowler hat, a fiery red-orange dress with no sleeves and a skater skirt, fairly tall tan wedges, and her curly golden hair was down as normal. Her eyelids were lightly coated with khaki green and gold eye shadow to match her eye colour and her cheeks were faintly rosy to match her natural-yet-slightly-red coloured lipstick. She span in the mirror, making her skirt twirl around her, then admired Cassidy's get up:

The pretty Irish girl wore a long sleeved forest green blouse, tucked into black tailored shorts, and shiny black and gold pumps to match the pendant around her neck. Sia had reluctantly wiped the glitter and eye shadow off of her, but finished tightly curling her hair. The clean sweep of her eye liner with the frizzy curls and bold lips really suited her, Charlie thought.

Sia clapped vigorously at her handy work and the others followed in pursuit. 'See? It wasn't that _bad_, was it?' she teased.

Though she knew she was right, Charlie merely gave a 'meh…' just to annoy her.

Unfortunately, it didn't have the intended effect as the main phone rang from the down stairs common room and the girls squealed and shot for the door, as a whole.

When they reached the common room and saw that Nixie had answered the phone, the girls muttered in disappointment and stropped off to join the other spirits that were already in the room. Charlie and Cassidy, however, were somewhat stunned; the massive living room had been decorated in silver, white and blue. Fake snow and glittery frost had been moulded and sprayed onto the walls all around, flashing plastic icicles hang from the arcade games and consoles, shelves, table and seat edges, the open doorway to the kitchen/diner and generally anywhere they could go. Pale blue and silver streamers also hung low from the ceiling. The only light in the room came from the white and blue Christmas lights bordering it and the party lights that flashed occasionally with the music, highlighting the glitter on the fake snow and in the air. They could tell that Sia was the one behind this party as her favourite summer dance hits pounded through the House with heavy beats and there were two fans in opposite corners of the room, blowing tiny sparkly hearts and snowflakes everywhere. As much as she hated to admit it, Charlie was impressed. She actually really liked it all, apart from the music.

Nixie got off the phone and turned the music off, as well as dimming the lights really low.

'Hey!' a few girls objected.

Nixie shook her crimped white-blonde hair, 'they're nearly here!'

At these words, Sia bounded into the room from checking on the snacks in the kitchen. 'Positions everyone!'

All of the spirits that still had hold of their sanity, gave each other a look that said, 'she's insane, and _what positions_?'

Nonetheless, a group of girls straightened themselves out, flipping their hair and topping up their lip gloss. Sia marched off to the entrance hall, where she was expecting Sir Frost to enter through the front door and sweep her off her feet. However, his entrance was not so suave and was through the wrong door.

The cold stone steps tickled Jack's feet as he stumbled, struggling to see in the complete darkness.

'Are you sure you don't want me to lead the way,' he heard Natalie's clearly amused voice call out, behind him.

'N-no, no, I'm fine,' he lied. Further sense of relief washed over him every time he successfully moved up a step, towards the door that was supposedly at the top. Unfortunately for him, the lights were very dim in the next room so there was no knowing when he'd reach it; _smack!_ He reached it… With his face.

Muffled screams and shouts sounded through the door.

'What was that?' he heard someone whisper while he rubbed his head and Natalie asked, 'are you okay?'

Footsteps clumped up to the door and it slowly opened. The room filled with laughter as they realised what had happened and, Jack had no idea why, but some girls excitedly screeched and gripped each other's arms when he came into view. Jack felt his face flush and rubbed the back of his neck, looking down in embarrassment. 'Err, hi?' he said, uncomfortably.

Natalie giggled bashfully, then scooted past Jack and skipped up to the owner of the footsteps, still holding the door, and gave them a hug. The owner smiled and hugged her back.

Jack noticed how the bright sincerity of her smile reached from end to end and shone in her eyes. She had a very pretty smile.

Natalie saw him staring and saved him, 'Charlie, everyone, this is the oh-so-famous Jack Frost!' she cheerily greeted.

Charlie's smile never left her face as she reached her hand out to shake his. 'Hi, it's nice to meet you,' she addressed.

With effort, Jack snapped back to reality and shook her hand, returning the greeting.

'I hope you're ready,' she teased slyly.

'For what? Training?'

'Well that, yeah, but I was thinking more about the problem that's heading your way now,' she laughed and nodded her head at something behind him.

He turned and saw a tanned girl in a short purple dress strutting towards him with evident purpose, laughably flipping her black hair and sporting way too much makeup.

'_Oh no…_' he thought.


	6. Jack's Inner Self Takes Over

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Yet another extra update – check me out! ;) It's the partaaayy and I really hope you listen to the songs in bold while you read it as it would really emphasise the whole vibe of it and you may just find a new favourite song, you'll never know ;D Anyway please, please, please give me feedback because I ADORE reviews and everything and I really hope you enjoy it as I loved writing it! **

**Chapter 6: Jack's Inner Self Takes Over **

Jack strode into the kitchen/diner and leaned against the grey marble counter, sighing in relief when he noticed she wasn't following him. '_Man_, that girl can talk,' he muttered, thinking he was alone.

'Sorry, I was going to save you when she got halfway through her life story, but I was afraid she would eat me. Y'know, after tearing me apart with her red claws?'

Jack looked up from the counter and blushed slightly at his thinking aloud, but gratefully laughed when he saw it was Charlie who heard him and not Sia. 'It's okay, I just need to avoid her for the rest of my time here, or else I'll have to hear about the final two centuries of her life so far,' he grumbled whilst trying to massage hundreds of years' worth of gossip out of his head.

Charlie mockingly gasped, 'oh, but that's the best part! The last century has Brad in it!'

Jacked laughed and watched as she mixed two fruit juices with a foreign clear liquid, in a glass with a small silver streamer in it. 'Was that flirting?' he asked, hoping he wouldn't have to put any girl through that, _ever_.

'Oh god no! That was Sia attempting to push her cleavage forward and "accidentally" dropping things so that she could bend over and get them, all whilst torturing you with her life story. This, in other words, is just Sia whining to you about all of her exes and making a full of herself as she fails at seduction,' she admitted bluntly, then added, 'don't get me wrong, she's usually a lovely person. But when she's dressed as an orange vampire and has her fangs set on an attractive guy, she's a nightmare.'

Jack chuckled and nodded slowly, one phrase from the whole rant standing out to him in particular. 'So you think I'm attractive?' he teased with a sly raised eyebrow and a cheeky crooked smile.

Charlie laughed and the blush on the prominent apples of her cheeks turned deeper in colour, as did the button of her nose. 'I probably should have thought that one through…' she realised. 'Okay, how do I phrase this?' she questioned herself as she face palmed.

The sheer amusement on Jack's face glowed through his cocky grin, whilst his stupid inner self bathed in the adorableness of her flustered reaction.

After a few seconds she clapped and said, 'you _may_ be a rather handsome young man,' she paused to take the brunt of his smirk, 'but that's not necessarily a good thing in this case as it has you stuck with Sia, and she really doesn't know when "no" means "no". So, laugh at me now for having to admit your good looks, but I'll be the one laughing when she's telling you about the latest two hundred years of her love life and I'm dancing at the other side of the room; conveniently too far away to hear your cries for help…' She stuck her tongue out then batted her eye lashes oh-so innocently as she sipped her drink.

'You wouldn't…' he glared.

Charlie took this as a challenge and began to imitate the summer spirit's ridiculous strut, flinging her hair all over the place and jutting her hips out with each step. 'Oh Si-aa!' she sang.

Jack sped round to her and pulled her back by the wrist, shouting, 'no, n- no, no, no, no! Please no – Charlie!'

She laughed and held her hands up in surrender, 'I was joking! I wouldn't do that; that would be beyond cruel!'

He genuinely felt a weight lift from his shoulders, 'thank god,' he sighed.

Charlie giggled and shook her head, taking something from a tin on the counter and leaning on a cleared bit of the table to work on it.

The kitchen counter wound around all the walls and a table spread with all sorts of drinks and snacks rose up in the centre, like a miniature city with platter sky scrapers. Charlie stood at one side of the table and Jack leaned against it on the other side, observing her. She was very intriguing to him. He had to admit that his immediate interest was a bit strange, and his staring probably came across as creepy, but he couldn't help it. She had the best smile he'd ever had the pleasure of receiving and he found her accent to be brilliant; every word she said sounded so much bolder and more enthusiastic than his; because of the hard vowels it came across as quite gruff, but he thought it was rather beautiful. Also, it had been a long time since a girl his age had seen him and it felt quite alien, even making him slightly nervous.

As she continued to work at the unknown object, he noted how her long golden curls fell in sheets around her face, despite the hat she wore. All of the little things kept jumping out at him as though they desperately craved his attention. Like how long her eyelashes were, the shapely curve of her bottom lip, how her eyes seemed to change various shades of green in different lights, how slim and elegant her hands and arms were, how her deep shade of golden hair gleamed with highlights as it shifted when she moved, how pale her skin was and how oddly well her hair colour worked with it and- and- and- she was looking right at him. Jack looked down at the table, instantly finding a mushroom on a pizza far more interesting.

Charlie just giggled slightly and asked, 'would you like a cocktail?' with a smile.

Jack found himself pulling his gaze away from the mushroom to see _the _smile. '_Even her laugh is cute. Add that to the smile…_' his inner self said against his will.

'"_Cute"? Now is not the time for "cute", she asked me a question and now I have to answer it before this silent staring wins me an award for the most embarrassments in one night!_' he argued back at it. '_Come on! Push buttons or whatever it is that you do. Make the thing with words happen!_' he pleaded.

Jack's inner self, sitting at the control panel in his mind, merely whacked his forehead on the keyboard making Jack say something similar to, 'asdfghjkl.' He cleared his throat, 'I mean yes, yes please.' He cursed himself in complete bemusement, '_since when was I socially awkward?_'

Charlie raised an eyebrow, '_is he always this strange? Oh well, who am I kidding; I'm an absolute nutter, especially with Natalie._' She mixed him a drink to match hers and handed it to him.

'What was the clear stuff you put in it?' he asked, taking a ginger sip.

'Oh yeah, I probably should have mentioned it has Bacardi rum in it…' she said, sipping threw a straw and looking off to the side as a way of saying, '_whoops-y_'.

Jack stopped drinking, alarm dawning all of his features.

'It's okay,' Charlie laughed, 'it's just one drink and I hardly put much in. I'd be very surprised if you got tipsy at all!'

He relaxed, taking another experimental taste and deciding that he liked it. 'Are we going through to join the others?'

'Yeah, sure.' Then she remembered, 'oh, I made cakes earlier and just decorated one there for you.' The cake she placed in his hand was in a blue case and was covered in white icing and pale blue snowflakes she had skilfully drawn on in tube icing, only moments ago. There was also a crackled sparkly frost effect created around the edges.

'That's really great, thanks,' he said with an impressed smile. 'I'll eat it through there, in the madness.'

They laughed as they walked through the open doorway, instantaneously achieving a slight glare from Sia. She was waving Jack over to where she stood (more like posed) with several of her squealing companions. Jack looked sideways at Charlie – a look that said '_help me_'. She took his drink and cake from him and sat it down with hers on a high table with stools. She then guided him over to Natalie, Nixie and Devlin, who were lounging on a couch near the space cleared for dancing. She knew that Sia would be talking about her, making her out to be competition or something else just as ludicrous.

As they neared the small group, Charlie noticed that Natalie was wearing the charm bracelet that hid her wings and that she'd changed from her spirit attire. She now wore a dark purple dress that went to her mid-thigh and had long shimmering puffy sleeves that were split down the inner arm, and dark grey shiny high heels. She thought this was strange as she usually wore pale colours, but the intense purple really suited her light blue eyes, pale skin and pixie dark brown hair.

She was surprised to see that even Nixie was looking rather glamorous. She sported a figure-fitting black mini dress that had one long aqua blue sleeve, thin black tights and navy blue creepers that had some pattern on them that she couldn't decipher due to the lack of light. However she still wore her signature load of bands and bracelets and earrings. Her hair was amazingly crimped and mostly over to one side, her whole look creating a particularly eighties vibe.

Devlin sat on one side of Nixie and wore blue skinny jeans and a white t-shirt as usual, but he also appeared to have been forced by Nixie to wear a stylish simple black blazer. His black tousled hair fell in his orangey-brown eyes as he joked with the two girls about some of the others' rather suggestive dance moves.

'Wow, you guys look great!' Charlie gasped. 'Not that you don't always do,' she quickly added when she saw Natalie pulling her best _'bitch please' _face.

'Us? You look amazing! Can I try on your hat?' Nixie asked, looking like she would genuinely cry if Charlie didn't give it to her.

Charlie laughed, 'if you can get it over your awesome hair! How long did that take?'

'About fifteen minutes actually; I went for a shower then put it all in tiny plaits and left them to dry. Then I just manually crimped the odd bits afterwards,' she explained, clearly happy with the result, as she sat the hat on the stylish white cloud that was her hair and Charlie nodded and smiled along.

'Is your dress orange? The skirt's a really pretty cut, it suits you,' Natalie smiled with a wink. 'I would…'

'Oh I know you would, baby!' she joked back, stroking her hand down her hip and sitting down on the couch opposite, with Jack.

Jack raised his eyebrow at the girls, legitimate fear of and worry for them both arose inside him.

'Don't worry, that's just one of their best friend ongoing jokes; that they're in love,' Devlin explained in his English (London) accent. 'I'm Devlin by the way, but these idiots like to call me "Devil",' he introduced himself, gesturing to the proudly grinning girls and then reaching forward to shake Jack's hand.

'Hi, I'm Jack,' he said, returning the shake. 'I'm guessing that you're the fire spirit?' he smirked.

'How ever did you guess?' Devil sarcastically replied.

'So will we be training together? Fire and ice?' he asked with a nervous smile; he truly hoped these people liked him, they seemed to be really close friends and that was something he'd always wanted to be a part of.

'Yeah, Nix and I were talking about that earlier. We were thinking that we three could team up, because water, fire and ice would put up a pretty badass fight and if we're working together they won't be able to use us against each other,' Devil explained with a devious smile and glint in his eyes.

Jack nodded enthusiastically, 'yeah, that sounds like a smart plan.' He noticed the white blonde girl staring at Devil, waiting for him to introduce her, but he didn't seem to realise this and just smiled at her. Jack did the honours, 'hi, you must be Nix?' he asked, shaking her hand with a smile.

Nixie beamed thankfully, 'yeah, it's really Nixie but everyone calls me Nix. Thank god you're here 'cause Natalie and I were the only people in our close group of friends that didn't have an accent. Now you can feel boring and disappointed with yourself too, yay!' She and the winter spirit laughed.

'Trust me, having an accent in this place is _not_ a good thing!' Charlie assured.

Nixie made an exasperated noise, 'are you kidding?! You all have sexy accents and I'm just sitting here with my cookie fashion sense and generally strange personality-'

Charlie scoffed, 'my accent is the most aggressive and unsexy thing imaginable and we're _all_ insanely weird! That's what makes us so awesome!'

Without Jack having any say, his inner self blurted aloud, 'I think it's sexy.' He dumbly gawked at her then inspected the decorations across the room, apparently not realising he'd just said something stupid until thirty seconds of silent smirking at him had passed. '_Shit_,' he cursed his inner self as he slowly looked back round to receive his fate.

Natalie and Nix were staring at him with smirks playing at their mouths, Devil was full on grinning which added to the everlasting cheeky glint in his eyes and Charlie smiled at him with a slight blush.

'I understand that you probably want us to forget that ever happened, but I'm afraid I can't as that compliment gives me hope,' Charlie said and they all laughed.

'So if someone makes fun of the way you say something you're just going to reply with, "Well Jack Frost thinks it's sexy!"' Devil snickered.

'Seeing as it's usually stupid things like "worm" and "kettle",' Charlie paused to let the laugh at her, 'I doubt that "sexy" would quite fit the bill,'

'You even say "sexy" funny,' Nixie giggled and Natalie joined in.

'I don't need this abuse!' Charlie cried, putting her head in her hands.

Jack actually found himself laughing and the feeling of wanting to curl up in a corner and cry out the embarrassment faded. '_This must be what it's like to have good friends. They really do make you feel better_,' he thought to himself, adding on a special note to his inner self for the awkward comment.

'Go on, say "loch" or- or- or "lassie", no, say "Have ye seen the Loch Ness Monster, Lassie?'!' Devil teased while Charlie looked extremely unimpressed. 'Oh please, Jack hasn't heard you say it!' he excitedly pleaded.

'Am no sayin' nothin', ye English bawbag!' she shrieked, immediately clamping her hand over her mouth and stamping her foot as she realised she'd just given him the material for bullying that he was looking for.

They all burst into fits of laughter, including Charlie. Jack detecting how oddly attractive he found her being able to laugh at herself. 'S_top it, Jack! You just met her and you didn't come here for any of that stuff_,' he scolded his inner self that seemed to be clearly having a lot of fun, messing at that control panel of his. That was what he told himself: '_these aren't your thoughts. Her pretty smile is messing with you. Ugh, stop calling her pretty!_'

Very suddenly, Nixie stopped laughing. 'Wait, what's a "bawbag"?' she asked, causing Charlie to giggle knowingly at the others' confusion.

'Yeah…' she giggled, 'I may have just called your boyfriend a "testicle",' she shrugged with another '_whoops-y_' expression planted on her face.

Devil flamboyantly put one hand on his chest and held his other palm up to her, with his mouth agape. 'I'm so not talking to you right now!' he yelled in a hurt, but camp, tone.

When Jack realised that Devlin and Nixie were dating, he expected her to stand up for him or for him to want her to, but they both just rocked back and forth laughing.

'That was the most Charlie-like insult _ever_!' Nix wheezed, 'Just brilliant!'

Natalie managed to stop laughing and asked, 'while we're on the subject of accents, where's the Irish one, the New Yorkers and the French pair?'

'Three of 'em are right behind you, Mrs,' said an Irish red-head in a green blouse and black shorts. She stood with her hands on her hips, alongside a slightly smaller light brown haired girl in a strapless dark blue dress and a blue eyed boy in a black suit with a pale pink shirt and stylish blonde hair. She trotted over to Jack, 'hello there, love! My name's Cassidy but you can call me Cassy,' she chirpily greeted.

Jack was going to go for a handshake but she squeezed in next to him and gave him a friendly hug. 'Oh, um, hi. I'm Jack,' he said, with a surprised laugh.

Cassy pulled away and smiled, motioning to the last empty love seat for the other two strangers. 'This is Davet [Da-vay],' she introduced cocking her head at the now aloofly lounging boy, who smiled and nodded with a 'hi', which Jack returned. 'He's one half of the Cupid relationship.'

When Jack looked confused, Davet explained, 'when imagining Cupid, people tend to think of a little cherub with a bow and arrow. However my partner, Amadour, and I in fact are two halves of the term "Cupid".'

Jack nodded in understanding. He grasped the idea pretty quickly and was actually thinking more about the guy's French accent than anything. He was starting to appreciate what Nixie had meant by her jealous accent complaints as he thought aloud, 'I'm not interesting in the slightest… I want an accent!'

Without delay, Nixie shouted, 'I know right! Now you know my feel!'

All of the friends with accents hi-fived the one on either side of them at the exact same time, making a circle of joined hands and a very sharp sound that made Natalie jump slightly.

Just as they all began to laugh at her, an elegant girl in a long red dress with a slit high up the leg and raven black hair crouched and tip toed towards them, passed the mass of dancers in the centre of the room. Charlie shuffled over on the couch to make room for her. She sat down and put two cocktails and a cake on the coffee table in the middle of them all. 'I saw you two put these down earlier and thought I'd better bring them to you before they get snatched,' she smiled and leaned past Charlie to give Jack a hug.

'_Another hugger_,' he subconsciously remarked in thought, along with her French accent. 'Hi,' he greeted.

'Hello Frost, I'm Amadour.' As she sat back she apologised to Charlie for just about lying on her lap and she of course commented, 'oh I liked it' which received a thin raised eyebrow and a 'meow' from the French girl.

'I'm sorry, Charlie, she's taken,' Davet winked at Amadour and she smiled back, Charlie giving him the pet lip and puppy eyes whilst he shook his head.

'I don't need you, I have Jack!' she cried, burying her head into his side as he laughed and patted it.

Natalie gasped and yelled, 'psht, fine then!'

'No, no, no, I love you!' she shouted, shuffling past the others' legs to sit on the floor and hug Natalie's. 'Love me back!'

Natalie bent over and stroked Charlie's head. She looked like a loving master petting their mad dog. They all laughed and shook their heads at them both, all of them thinking, '_they're insane, but that's why we love them_.'

Jack voiced his thoughts aloud, 'you're all so weird – I love it!'

The group erupted with further laughter and the girl in the blue dress spoke to him. 'You better be weird in some way or another otherwise you won't leave here with your sanity,' she said, revealing her New York City accent. 'I'm Tanya by the way. My brother, Mark, is over there praying on some poor curvaceous spirits, but he'll be over soon.'

'Hi, nice to meet you,' he said, shaking her hand. 'What are you both spirits of?'

'We're urban spirits. It sounds kind of strange but some of our powers are really cool,' she replied.

Curiosity got to Jack. 'Like what? What can you do?'

'I can run through walls and jump and dive through floors and ceilings, and put silencing spells on things or make them louder. If you think that's cool, Mark can run up walls and stand on ceilings!'

Jack smiled in awe, 'that's awesome!' he gasped.

'Thanks,' she giggled.

Charlie had returned to her seat and Amadour tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for everyone to lean in. Once they did she said, 'I did what you asked,' to Charlie.

She nodded and gave her a thumbs up, 'that's great, thank you so much!' Seeing everyone's confused glances, she explained, 'I asked her to merge a playlist of music that I'd made with Sia's so that we can actually dance at one of her parties!' They all cheered and clapped, earning odd looks from some of the snide girls on the dance floor. 'I would have done it myself, but I was being Cinderella preparing the snacks, whilst she made her grotesque compilation of "songs" and painted her toe nails,' she added, nodding over to the tall dark haired summer spirit that was provocatively dancing to a song with an auto tuned voice and a thumping beat.

After the group joked and laughed for a while longer, they sat with baited breath as song after song faded. Suddenly the bass and uplifting electric guitar of '**Heroes**' by **David Bowie **rang and pulled them from their seats while they cheered and whistled. Nixie Pulled Devil to the dance floor by the hand and Charlie and Natalie span around and held each other, shouting the lyrics with all the enthusiasm they could muster. The Cupid couple danced slowly and closely and Tanya and Cassy jumped around and did different hand jives and handshakes. Jack watched it all play out as a faster song ('**Negative Thinking**' by **The Death Set**) sounded from the speakers. He couldn't clear his smile; he'd only ever dreamed of meeting people like this; people he got along with straight away and felt so much care and affection for so soon. They were truly brilliant!

The lights flashed with the fast beat and guitar riff, giving him photo-like snapshots of Charlie's swirling skirt, swishing hair, swinging hips and a few of her and Natalie doing an impersonation of a robot and Charlie chasing her when she stole her hat. He couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't explain what he found so _interesting_ about the girl, it seemed so odd because he'd only known her for a few hours, yet he was so captivated by her. He found himself yearning to get to know her; to know everything; even the way she likes her eggs in the morning and her favourite colour – all the little things.

It turned out that they had hit a lucky streak with the playlist and yet another song they liked came on, '**Cats and Dogs**' by **The Head and the Heart**. Jack polished off his cake and cocktail and was wondering whether he should dance or not when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see none other than Charlie. 'Come dance, Frosty!' she insisted as she pulled him from the couch and walked him to the floor.

The last few beats of the song played and '**White Winter Hymnal**' by **Fleet Foxes** started. Jack didn't know much about music or many songs or artists but he knew this one and happened to love it, making him all the more confident as he took Charlie's waist and hand and rocked and stepped with her. He twirled her under his arm every now and then and span her out and back into him, receiving impressed smiles from the lovely girl as she followed his lead. Her smiles filled him with her warmth and boosted his confidence further; he already felt at home. After he swayed and turned her across the floor, she took her hat off and rested it on his fluffy snow-white hair. They continued to laugh and spin as the song came to a close. Only when the song finished did Jack realise how closely she had been pressed up against him. They both glanced down and blushed. He cleared his throat and allowed himself to be pulled back to the couch, where they sat and she finished her cocktail.

As the night went on, Jack continued to loosen up and found himself feeling as though he'd known Devlin, Mark and Davet his whole life. Whilst all of the girls had been dancing, jumping and shaking their hips to cheesy pop songs, the guys had been exchanging stories and now, as he lay in bed in his new room at the House, Jack felt accepted and frankly the happiest he'd been in a very long time. He couldn't wait for the next day and the fact that he knew he would feel this way basically every night, only intensified the feeling.

The only down side about the morning was that he and Natalie promised they would explain the "grave news". He hoped to MiM that it didn't depress everyone for the rest of the year, but then again he wasn't sure that was possible as everyone here was so happy! He was happy and, as selfish as it may seem with the current crises, he didn't want that to change. MiM was finally making up for all those years of loneliness and he couldn't be doing it in any better way.

Jack slowly drifted off into a much needed peaceful sleep. The final images passing through his mind being that of a flash of golden hair and a certain smile that boasted warmth and happiness through two rosy cheeks and hazel green eyes.


	7. Shopping & a Sleepover with Jack Frost

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: It's my birthday tomorrow! XD *Cat in the Hat voice* "I'm so excited!" Anyway here's the next chapter for you. I'm trying not to move the relationship on too fast so I'm just giving them little urging feelings and inklings :3 It's so difficult when you have so many romantic ideas to fangirl over but you can't get them out yet!  
Hey, hey! Yeah, you with the nice face, y'know what'd be a great birthday present? Reviews, favourites, follows, PMs and the whole shebang! :D Eh? Purdy pwease? (But srsly that'd be awesome).**

**Chapter 7: Shopping and Sleepover with Jack Frost.**

Jack awoke to the sound of crackling and heat throbbing against his (now not so icy) skin. He could tell he was almost a human teenager as his current natural instinct was to just curl up under the covers and hibernate for the next century. It had been a week since the party and every morning he found that the want to marry his bed grew more desperate.

'Jacky boy,' an English accent patronisingly singed.

"Jacky boy" was beyond the point of forming words. He meant to say, '_I'm not getting up, you can't make me_,' but knew this would take too much effort so he grumbled, 'bed good,' into his pillow instead.

'Yes, bed is good but not so good when it's set alight with you still on it…' said the voice from the end of his bed.

What with the crackling and heat, he thought this added up pretty well so he forced one eye open. It's cool; all he saw were blue flames licking their way from the bed side table to the wooden body of his bed, soon to be cooking him alive. In his sluggish state, the extreme repercussions of what his lazy vision brought him didn't quite hit him. But flames almost did when Devlin motioned his hand upwards and they roared into the form of a large tsunami heading Jack's way. _That_ got reality to settle in, 'DUDE? ARE YOU CRAZY?!' Jack screamed whilst scrambling from his bed and landing in a heap on the floor.

'Only partially,' a mischievously grinning Devil replied. With a snap of his fingers the fire extinguished and disappeared into nothing, leaving no wreckage behind. 'I just know what it's like on mornings during your transformation, especially towards the end of it – how hard it is to wake up – so I thought I'd make things a little easier for you.'

Jack's mouth hung open and his eyes were pulled as wide as possible, whilst he was sprawled across the blue carpet and he wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck. 'By burning me alive?!'

Devil shrugged and his tousled dark hair rustled, 'well, I have to admit my methods are pretty extreme, but it's not like I would have actually let the flames get to you. Also, it wouldn't have mattered if they did because it was blue fire; synthetic; harmless.' As Jack started to relax, Devlin held a hand out for him and assured, 'I wouldn't purposely try to hurt you mate.'

Jack knew Devlin intended to help him up but suddenly realised how comfortable the carpet was. 'Soft… I think I'm going to take some time to wake up down here,' he slurred as he welcomed more sleep with a warm (now only slightly physically cold) hug.

'No, no, no,' Devil tusked. 'You have a long day ahead of you, you're lucky we let you sleep this long! Now come on, I need to remind you how the shower works seeing as you're basically Hamish and forget every morning.'

Jack moaned, 'But I don't want to!' He was curled up with his bum in the air, face down on the carpet. He turned his head to the side and opened one eye to see a not so amused fire spirit. 'Okay, fine!' he gave in and took his hand so that he could actually get to his feet.

His first shower had been difficult to withstand because of the heat, but seeing as his body temperature was now pretty much normal he liked it. He was sure that the process of turning human was pretty much complete, as his skin had coloured ever so slightly (though he was still really pale in comparison to most of the others) and his hair was now the same dark brown/black as his eyebrows. After drying off and dressing in his usual blue hooded sweater and brown Capri pants, he headed downstairs to the kitchen/diner like Devil had instructed. Devil, Davet, Nixie and Cassy sat on the usual couch in the common room and he waved as he passed them. Throughout the week the fake frost and snow and all of the decorations dedicated to him had been removed, so only the Christmas lights that bordered the room and a small Christmas tree that sat on a table in the corner remained. Upon approaching the kitchen he heard someone singing along to the radio. He quietly padded into the room and sat on a stool at the enormous table that had been swamped with snacks and drinks on his first night. He smirked as he watched Charlie hop around the stove in her pyjamas (flannel shorts and an 'Adventure Time' t-shirt), boiling the kettle, putting toast in the toaster, mixing a smooth liquid in a bowl and ladling it into the frying pan.

A new song came on and she twisted her hips and danced around the kitchen. Still not noticing Jack, she began to sing along:

'So she said "what's the problem, baby?"  
What's the problem? I don't know! Well maybe I'm in love.  
Love, think about it,  
every time I think about it,  
can't stop thinkin' 'bout it.

How much longer will it take to cure this?  
Just to cure it, 'cause I can't ignore it if it's love.  
Love, makes me wanna turn around and face me,  
but I don't know nothin' 'bout love, no!'

She turned with a jump for the chorus. 'Come on, come on! Spin a little faster,' she finally noticed Jack and his smirk. He obviously expected her to be mortified, but instead of startling and blushing she span over to him and took his wrists in her hands, making him clap to the beat while he laughed at her odd nature. 'Come on, come on! The world will follow after. Come on, come on! 'Cause everybody's after lo-o-ove! Come on, Frosty, dance!' she yelled, pulling him from his seat.

'I don't have the energy,' he laughed, 'and you're going to burn something if you don't be careful!'

'I got this shizznit covered!' she yelled above the music as she bobbed over to the stove, whipping her hair around.

All he could do was shake his head and laugh at her. It was safe to say he'd never met anyone like her before, which was a shame because she made everyone smile and laugh with her silly ways. But he'd noticed that she also had an air of knowledge about her; as though she had secrets or experiences that made her that little bit wiser than everyone else. He thought the world could do with more Charlies, but then again her originality was one of her best traits. He laughed even more at his thought of her being really wise, as the very same girl flipped a pancake and it stuck to the white ceiling.

'Oops,' she squeaked as she snickered like a five year old. 'Mark! Another one got stuck!' she called.

The urban spirit sauntered into the room with his chin length wavy brown hair swaying. Like most of the other spirits, he was already dressed, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt with a grey unzipped hooded sweater on top. When he was a few feet away from the wall opposite the door he broke into run and kept going until he was dangling from the ceiling, waving a pancake in Charlie's face.

'Thanks, man,' she said with a smile and a bite from the pancake. When Jack looked at her strangely, she incredulously retorted, 'what? No one else is going to want it!'

He and Mark shrugged and the urban spirit patted him on the back as a greeting, before stalking off across the ceiling to the couch where the others sat.

Charlie told Jack to follow him and she brought breakfast through to the coffee table shortly after. She had set down a plate stacked high with pancakes of different thicknesses and sizes, a tray of jams and butter, a filled toast rack and after a second trip she came back with a tray of mugs, some filled with coffee, a teapot, a milk jug, a sugar pot and a jug of orange juice. She then plopped down on a love seat between Natalie and Amadour, as everyone reached for food and drinks.

Jack didn't used to have to eat very often and rarely felt hungry but as breakfast was laid out in front of him he felt like devouring it all. '_Food's really good. I should have tried more than North's cookies over the past few centuries_,' he mused with a mouthful of soft buttery pancake. 'So what's happening today?' he asked.

Natalie smiled after finishing her toast, 'Well we feel like you've worked and trained really hard all week for this fight against Pitch, so today we've got a few things planned for turning you into a modern teenager. But before we sort that out, Tanya had an idea for the whole Pitch crisis,' she looked over to the light brown pony tailed girl next to Devil and Nix.

'You'll want to see the other guardians fairly often, right?' said Tanya. Jack nodded and she then proposed, 'well we thought you could go to North's workshop once a month or more to get an update on the… situation?'

'Yeah, that's a good idea. Seeing as the shadows escaped there will probably have already been more attacks to hear about,' he said solemnly.

Davet nodded, 'other than that, all we can really do is train. We have Natalie's foresight on our side and the Sandman as well, so we'll just have to hope that we can all work out Pitch's plan soon and when everything is going to take off.'

Everyone gravely nodded. To prevent a depressing silence, Charlie clapped, 'anyway, today's plans are far more pleasant than training!'

Jack looked at all of the guys' shaking heads and said, 'who's idea of pleasant?'

'Well…' Cassy squirmed.

'I'm taking you shopping!' Amadour exclaimed.

'I thought we agreed that names would be pulled out of a hat?' Charlie raised an eyebrow while all of the girls objected, insisting that they were going.

'Glad to know I'm so popular,' Jack smirked.

Charlie smirked back, 'sorry Frosty, but we all want to go because none of us have been shopping in ages and we all want new dresses for Christmas and New Years.'

Jack glared determinedly, 'I'm going to pretend you never said that and that it's still because I'm so unbelievably attractive. After all, you admitted that I was at the party,' his smirk fell back in place.

'I don't know what you're being so cocky about; you blurted out that her accent was sexy on that very same night,' Nixie recalled. 'I'm not picking on you by the way, because I agree about the accent…'

'Let's not get into this again!' Charlie boycotted, but slipped a playful wink at Nixie. 'Right, do you mind, Cassy?' she asked as she reached a hand out for her grey fedora hat. The red head smiled and passed it to her.

Jack saw light bounce off of something golden that appeared to be in the hat. As Charlie shook the hat slightly he heard the metallic clinks and jingles of coins. She then closed her eyes and pulled out a gleaming coin that was about the size of the bottom of a glass. Jack smiled, '_I get it: spirit of luck, pot of gold..._' She opened her eyes and grinned when she read aloud, '"Charlie"! Mwahaha, I'm going shopping!' she shot up from the couch and ran on her tiptoes toward the stairway. She ran back and grabbed another piece of toast. 'We'll be leaving in half an hour!' she yelled to Jack as she skipped away again, leaping into the air to perform a perfect split jump before reaching the doorway.

All of the guys looked at Jack sympathetically but shrugged and nodded once he pointed out, 'at least it won't be boring, she's crazy.'

* * *

After many complaints about having to wear shoes (he borrowed vans from Devil) and his first ever bus journey, Jack understood the boys' lack of enthusiasm at the idea of shopping. He sat on a chair outside the female section of the fitting room in a fancy shop that sold all sorts of dress wear.

Many girls walked past him and either blushed, smiled or giggled. He wasn't sure what to think of it. After all, it had been so long since he'd been visible to the public and the attention felt so strange. He liked being seen but it would take some getting used to.

'Hey Jack, I need your help!' he heard Charlie's Scottish voice call out.

He awkwardly shuffled towards her cubicle, not sure if he was supposed to be in the ladies section. The member of staff who was working in the fitting rooms gave him a nod and he knocked on her door. Charlie pulled him in and shut the door behind him.

'What do you think?' She asked smoothing out the metallic blue silk that flowed down from her waist, growing in length from the short front to the back that draped down to the floor. She'd tied her long curly hair back out of her face and he saw that the silk cut off just above her breasts and that a thin material made up the rest of it, the sleeves cutting off before reaching her shoulders. He stood there with his mouth slightly agape, forgetting that time was still moving on even though his brain had frozen. When she realised there was no hope of response she offered him some help, 'it isn't for me, it's for Nixie. I thought I may as well get a dress for each of the girls seeing as I'm their size, except for Tanya, but I know hers so it's fine,' she widened her eyes expectantly. Still nothing. 'It's either this one, or the one I'm wearing,' she said, holding up a sky blue strapless dress with a puffy netted skirt. He hadn't blinked for a few minutes and she was starting to worry about him.

'Th-tha-that one,' he croaked and tried to clear his throat, pointing to the silvery-blue one she was wearing. 'I-I think it l-looks nice on y-you though,' he stuttered.

Charlie smiled sweetly, 'thanks but it's not really my colour, I like the shape and cut though,' she said with a slight blush. Then she jumped, 'I know what to do! I'll get this in a smaller size for Tanya and get the short puffy one for Nix, 'cause that's more her style.'

Jack zoned out as she mumbled to herself about what dresses she was getting for who, lifting them up and admiring them then sorting them into "keep" and "return" piles. He kept trying to look at the floor, but his eyes continuously wandered back to the mirror, where he saw the full view of her in the dress. He didn't know why it disappointed him so much that she wasn't getting the dress for herself. He was a guy, he wasn't supposed to care about that stuff and usually didn't. But the way the dress fitted so perfectly to her figure and cascaded down the back of her long legs, it was as though it was made for her. He just knew, as pretty as Tanya was, that it wouldn't look the same if she wore it. The squirming movement of her trying to reach the zip on her back caught his eye in the mirror and washed him ashore from his sea of thoughts.

She gritted her teeth in frustration and he spotted that she hadn't been able to pull it all the way up in the first place. He hesitated, slightly embarrassed by the thought, but asked anyway, 'do you want some help?'

She sighed and relaxed her previously writhing shoulders, 'yes please.'

His fingertips brushed the warm skin of her neck as he held one side of the material and gently pulled the zip down to her lower back. He awkwardly looked away as the back of her bra was bared. He shuffled towards the door handle, expecting her to ask him to leave. Instead she smirked and pulled her skinny jeans on under the skirt of the dress. She pulled her arms out of the sleeve holes but kept the material covering the front of her torso, as she pulled her batman t-shirt over it. She giggled at the uncomfortable and flustered Jack who was trying his best to look away. 'It's okay Jack, we girls know how to change without giving much, if not anything, away,' she smirked and snickered as he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck and she finished tying her converse laces. They both took a stack of dresses each and filed out of the cubicle.

She was about to hand the silk dress back to the lady by the return rack but Jack stopped her, 'seriously, you should get it,' he nodded with wide blue eyes.

She sighed, 'fine, but I'm checking if they have it in any other colours. I don't know what it is with you and this dress!'

He just laughed and blushed as they reached the rail with the newly released dresses. She ran a finger along the hangers until she reached the selection of silk high-low ones and gasped a "yes!" when she found a white-gold one in her size.

Jack grinned and said, 'well that's that sorted then.'

Charlie frowned, 'what will I get Tanya though?'

Jack pulled a random dress off the rail and held it up to her without looking at it.

'I don't think so!' she laughed and shoved the extortionate price tag in his face.

* * *

Jack was surprised when Charlie said they had only been shopping for an hour. It wasn't as though it wasn't any fun or anything – it wouldn't have been if he wasn't with Charlie – it was just that they had already bought a dress for each of the girls, two for some and accessories for others. This was the bit he had truly been dreading though: it was his turn to find clothes. Sure, he'd been wearing the same outfit for centuries but he didn't used to sweat as a full winter spirit and North's wife had insisted on washing it every time he visited. He liked his usual clothes.

More and more girls stared and smiled at Jack as he walked past and he was starting to get used to it. As the self consciousness faded his cockiness returned and he began to smile and wink back at some of them.

'Right you, let's not explode too many ovaries today,' Charlie remarked through the gritted teeth of a snide smile at one of the girls, and took hold of his hand as they went through the glass doorway of a shop.

Jack gave a curious crooked smile at her reaction, but didn't say anything.

She walked him over to a collection of sweaters and flannel shirts. She held a navy blue sweater with a single white anchor on the chest pocket up against him. She then grinned, 'what do we have here?' and lifted up a grey one with three snowflakes on the chest pocket. He smiled and nodded in approval and she handed them to him.

Charlie sat in an armchair outside the drawn curtain that Jack was changing behind. She was still embarrassedly cursing herself for her snappy reaction to all of those girls pining over him. She didn't know why she got so… _jealous_. She had nothing to be jealous of, right? They were just a few girls showing interest in a pretty attractive guy, and it wasn't as if she owned him or anything. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her head in her hand. She was trying to blink the stupid thoughts out of her mind when Jack slipped out from behind the curtain wearing a pale chequered shirt under the navy blue sweater and light beige chino pants, which fortunately didn't hang low around the crotch. She smiled, 'you look great! Are you happy with them?'

'Yeah, I mean it all looks good. I guess it'll just take a bit of getting used to,' he laughed as he admired himself and played about with his hair in the mirror.

'Y'know what stands out most to me?' she sarcastically asked.

'What?' he vaguely questioned, his eyes never leaving his reflection.

'Your ego,' she answered with a cutesy smile.

Jack glared and mock laughed, 'ha-ha-ha, very funny. You're only jealous because you're insecure and I'm just fab-u-lous!' he sang flamboyantly, fluffing his hair with each syllable.

She laughed and messed up his hair, receiving an irritated look and a "come at me bro" stance. 'Is that so? Well you stick with that theory and tell me more about it when you show me the next outfit,' she said, pushing him back through the curtain.

* * *

Another three hours had gone by and Jack now had a new wardrobe; several pairs of jeans (straight leg and skinny and in different shades of blue), numerous t-shirts, a denim jacket, a green and blue chequered flannel shirt, the outfit he modelled earlier, a new pair of capri pants, his own pair of vans and lace up boots and a backpack for school. Charlie had even dragged him into a shop for boxer shorts and she tried on and bought a few bras (she didn't require his help for trying on those, which he was oddly thankful for in a way as that would have been sufficiently awkward).

They also had a drink at Starbucks. Charlie had a mocha coffee and he had a mango and passion fruit ice blend, because he still refused to try the hot strong-smelling substance.

It was after dinner now and she was hanging up and folding his new clothes in all the various storage spaces in his room, while he sat on the bed sheepishly turning on her laptop that she'd brought through. 'Am I doing this right?' he asked in a small voice, flinching whenever the screen changed.

Charlie laughed and shook her head. 'For the millionth time: yes, Jack,' she sighed and closed the wardrobe, walking over to the bed and sitting with her legs in a basket beside him. 'This is my old iPod,' she said, holding up a small device with earphones plugged in. 'Seeing as I got a new one for my birthday, I thought we could sort through the music I have on it and put anything you like on it. After all, every teenager needs music,' she suggested.

'Yeah, that'd be great thanks,' he said with a smile, curiously tapping the tiny screen.

'It's a nano, so touching the screen doesn't do anything. You need to use the play and stop button here, this is how you scroll through your music, these are the skip and left and right buttons, this is your volume and that is the on/off button,' she explained, taking hold of his finger and moving it around the little blue device.

They spent an hour or so sifting through her music library, deleting the few songs that Jack didn't really like and downloading ones that he did. After changing into their pyjamas (a chequered flannel shirt and matching shorts for Charlie and a white t-shirt and basketball-type shorts for Jack), Charlie introduced him to bands, solo artists and songs she liked. He was surprised by how similar their taste was; they both loved Fleet Foxes and were into – what he recently found out was called – indie, indie/rock and alternative music as well as other genres.

It was pretty late but they were both still wide awake, talking and laughing away.

'Oh, how could I forget?!' Charlie suddenly remembered a band and swiftly typed their name into YouTube. She then walked around to bow and flourish her hand in front of him, 'may I have this dance?'

'Hmmm, I'll have to think about that,' he teased. She crossed her arms and dropped a hip, trying to look unimpressed but cracked up when he stuck his tongue out at her. He stood and walked her over to the more spacious end of his blue room.

They started by mock ballroom dancing, taking sharp turns and keeping their held hands far outstretched like in a really bad tango. But not after long, he had both hands on her waist and she had hers draped over his shoulders as they swayed and stepped.

'What song is this then?' he asked quietly.

She could tell his mind was somewhere else as his bright blue eyes gazed warmly into her green ones. '"**Hands Down**" by **Dog is Dead**,' she answered and they both laughed. 'Yeah, the band name's pretty weird but their music's really good.'

He nodded and smiled. They stayed like that for the rest of the song, swaying with their eyes closed, Charlie's chin resting on his shoulder. He could feel the soft nape of her neck against his and her sweet almond-like perfume wafted around him, along with her coconut-smelling hair. He didn't know what any of this meant to him, but he did notice that his inner self wasn't going crazy; he was simply enjoying the moment and nothing else mattered to him. He may not have known her long and his hormones may have been all over the place because of the transformation, but one thing he was sure of was that there was something about Charlie that made him feel strange. He felt all sorts of different things when he was with her and it really confused him but she never failed to make him smile, washing away his worries and allowing him to just settle in moments such as this.

Once the song ended Charlie added the band's album to Jack's iPod and they both lay down, talking. She asked Jack about his time before the House and he told her about his lonely past. He talked for a while but she listened intently the whole time. She told him about how she'd awoken at the House after transforming into the Spirit of Autumn, like the Man in the Moon had wanted her to flee from her past life by sending her to the other side of the world, but also about how her past had started coming back to her; haunting her. Jack wanted to ask more about it but she'd fallen asleep on her side, facing in towards him. He smiled, 'trust you to fall asleep mid story and keep me waiting,' he whispered. 'There's so much I want to know about you. I can't explain why… It's just you,' he added as he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. He then closed his eyes and sleep soon found him too.


	8. Mind Games

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Hey there! I really shouldn't be doing this because I have unreal amounts of homework but my teachers are just gon' have to deal! *sassy finger click thing*  
The idea came to me and I had to write while it was fresh in my mind. Please let me know what you think! Your feedback means a lot to me! (Thank you very much to the guest reviewer, seeing as I can't PM my thanks, there you go! ^.^) Hope you enjoy this chapter, please review and I shall see you next update! (It could possibly be before Monday ;)).**

**Chapter 8: Mind Games**

'Is that really all you've got, Frosty?! Come on!' Charlie antagonised whilst leaning back in an arch motion to avoid another shot of ice.

'I'm just holding back because I don't want to hurt a girl!' Jack teased, not wanting to admit that he was getting a royal ass-kicking. 'I want Devil back, he's nice! He doesn't try to electrocute me!' His voice picked up to a squeaky pitch as he just narrowly missed another lightning bolt. Most of the spirits were out on their duties so the spirits of winter and autumn were left in the vast field behind the House, alone. After several days of learning teenage ways (gaming with Mark featuring most commonly) and catching up on studies so that he didn't come across as a half-witted alien creature, Jack was back to training. Usually Devlin and Nixie trained him because their powers worked in similar ways and they would be fighting together when they faced Pitch, but they were lucky enough to be on a break day – picnicking in the park. So, of course, Jack was left with the mad Scottish one that wielded a lightning bolt.

'Well he and Nixie are away having on a lovely date, so you're stuck with me I'm afraid. Anyway, you're trying to freeze me so you're not much better Mr!' she shouted in defence, over the buzz and crackles of the slim metre-long bolt that flashed white and purple. They were both in their spirit forms so Jack's hair was a shocking white-silver once again, whilst his powers came into play. Charlie's spirit form consisted of an acorn and autumn leaf wreath that sat on her golden hair, and a dull orange/red dress that had a short and ragged skirt with layers of material underneath to prevent her underwear from showing as she flipped and somersaulted with skill and elegance. Also, a thin brown fur of sorts was tied around her waist, adding volume to her dress, and a leaf and straw sash rested diagonally across her torso.

Jack noticed as she thundered her bolt to the ground and electricity weaved towards his feet, that she glowed slightly golden whenever the fighting got vigorous. He had to admit, although she it seemed like she was trying to kill him, she looked very beautiful, mysterious and foreign, like a woodland fairytale creature. Who was he kidding? His life was basically a fairytale; he had a friend who could run across ceilings and another that could see into the future, not to mention this maniac! He created a streak of ice behind him and slid away from the approaching purple flickers. He then blasted a screen of ice from the ground and metres upwards, hoping that it would act as an insulator and block the electricity. The only problem with this was that he could no longer see his opponent for the thick blue mass. As the frozen wall cracked and shattered, the last flashes and buzzes of lightning diminished and he saw that the golden barer wasn't on the other side.

He only had two seconds to fearfully contemplate what to do, before he was pinned to the grassy lawn. With his eyes closed he felt two legs straddling him and soft ringlets tickling his face. He relaxed his scrunched up eyes and opened them to find Charlie proudly grinning a mere few inches from his face, twirling her lightning bolt in the air. 'I thought I was the cocky one?' he smirked.

'Y'know, you don't say the wisest things when you're trapped with hundreds of thousands of electric amps pointed at your chest?' she remarked with a raised eyebrow and a cunning smile.

'I probably would have noticed if it weren't for how staggeringly beautiful you are,' he whispered.

'Wha-' she started, but as soon as she let her guard down Jack had her underneath him with his staff aimed at her. 'Hey, you cheated! Not fair, Judge, Judge?!' She called out across the acres of green.

'Y'know, you don't say the wisest things when you're trapped with me so close to you; I'm such a charismatic and attractive guy, you should be begging me for mercy and swooning, pleading with me to whisk you away to a magical land!' He mocked her with a cheeky grin.

She glared at him, but a smile played at the sides of her mouth. 'I hate you,' she retorted, trying to sit back up just to be pushed back down.

'Well that's a lie!' Jack scoffed.

'You seem so sure,' Charlie said. Jack noticed something odd in the way she said it. It was supposed to come out as a teasing comment but instead her voice was soft, deep thought evident in her currently light green eyes (the light of the cloudy-grey sky paled them).

'I am,' he said, returning her tone. 'Do you remember last night? When you started telling me about your past? Then you fell asleep…' He enquired, his voice still hushed and contemplating.

Her warm eyes darkened as she solemnly recalled her exhausted ramblings, 'oh yeah… So I did…' she exhaled slowly with closed eyes, trying to relax her hardened expression. She willed herself to look directly into his wary gaze, and remained that way for what felt like several minutes. She finally smiled slightly, deciding that she could trust Jack. Sure, she trusted Natalie and hadn't told her but only at this moment did she feel confident enough about opening up at all. Not to mention, Jack was more likely to relate to it and understand because of his experiences. Also, she just generally felt comfortable around him. It sounded silly having only known him for just over a week, and very clichéd, but there was something so different about the tall, ego-driven, fluffy haired boy that made her feel odd; _warm_ in a sense, she supposed, from his immediate trust in her and the flustered but caring attitude that seemed to break through his usual nonchalant one at times. Without detaching their locked gaze, she made a proposition, 'how about… if you beat me in this final round then I'll immediately tell you everything?'

Jack beamed at the challenge, 'and if I lose?'

'If you lose, I shall take my irritatingly lengthily time in telling you about my past and you have to take me to the North Pole immediately for your first update!' she deviously grinned with childish excitement sparkling in her eyes.

'It's a deal,' he laughed. The two softly looked at each other for a silent moment, then suddenly Jack realised, 'I should probably get up then, shouldn't I?' He blushed at the realisation of having laid on top of her the whole time.

Charlie's cheeks darkened furiously as she tottered to her feet, after Jack. She shook off the flustered feeling that brought heat to her neck and cheeks. She didn't mind if she didn't win because she felt ready enough to tell him about her past, but she still wanted to put up a good fight as the North Pole sounded pretty damn awesome.

Jack walked over to the nearby tree that was his starting point and Charlie ran across to hers, at the other side of the lawn. The only rules were that you had to start at far opposite ends of the lawn and that you had to stop just before finishing any fatal or severely harmful manoeuvres. Each round started whenever someone made the first move, which made it not only a challenge for your abilities and strength but very much a mind game. That was what Jack knew he had to work on: '_don't focus completely on blocking her attacks, that's what she wants you to do. Instead, you need to outsmart her_,' he told himself. Unfortunately, after several defeats, he'd come to realise that he was right about Charlie being wise. After playfully glaring at one another, waiting for any signs of attack for minutes on end, Charlie mischievously winked and slipped behind the tree. As the leaves of the tree top rustled slightly, he flew close to the ground over to the front of the trunk. He figured that she'd gone round the back and climbed up, so he pressed his back against the mossy bark and counted, '_1… 2… 3-' _he jumped and grabbed hold of the branch above him, swinging himself up into the abundance of leaves and shooting ice in her general direction. She rolled along a thick branch and dropped down as the cold point chiselled bark and sliced leaves where she had been crouching moments ago. Jack heard the crackling bolt and shot into the air, just as the charred tree trunk snapped in two. She was sprinting towards Jack's starting point and the wind sped him straight for the bed of leaves that was his tree. He flew right through the green bunch and hid in a gap in the hedge close behind it. He held back snickers as he watched Charlie stalk the treetop, where she thought he (her prey) was. She was just about to touch her bolt to the leaves to set it alight when her hands emptied in shock as a body pressed up against her, pushing her into the tree trunk.

'Very clever, Frosty,' she purred. She cursed herself as the heat she felt previously returned.

'I know right,' he breathed in her ear, 'but I get the feeling that you're just trying to distract me and you do actually have a way of getting out of this.' The heat crawled down her back despite his cool breath on her cheek. 'Care to prove me right, Bolts?' he snarled in a whisper through gritted teeth, his upper lip twitched as he breathed a laugh.

She willed herself to look as hopeless as possible, momentarily glad for the flustered heat that had brought a sweat to her forehead, adding to the effect.

Just when Jack was sure he'd won, Charlie used his barricading arms as levers so that she could run up the trunk and flip over him. He took no time to do so much as pretend to be surprised. He blocked her high swinging kick and she dodged his punches. After a lot of icicle throwing and avoiding and hand to hand combat, Jack froze her feet to the ground. But as he was about to point his staff to her chest in victory, she span him round and gripped her hands accordingly around his neck, ready to give it a deadly twist. She had his arms wrapped around hers at an awkward angle so he couldn't fight back.

'How does it feel to be right?' she hissed through heavy breaths.

Jack tried to think of any way he could turn it around but it wasn't feasible in the slightest; he's body was locked with his back against her heaving chest and her hair draped over his shoulders, the fluffiness of his own flattened on one of her rosy cheeks. 'Exhilarating,' he panted.

She giggled and released him with a ruffle of his tousled white hair. 'Do you mind unfreezing my feet, Frosty?'

'Hmmm. I'll have to think about that, Bolts…' he teased as he sauntered away carrying his staff over his shoulder.

'Hey, we had a deal!' she righteously shouted.

Jack gave her a playful wink just like she gave him at the start of the game, and the chunk of ice holding her feet grew until she was wobbling on unsteady legs, several feet in the air.

'Jack!' she screamed.

He laughed at her outrage and rose into the sky. The ice cracked with a whip of his staff. Charlie screamed uncontrollably as she fell to the ground and didn't stop when Jack caught her and yelled, 'to the North Pole!'

'Jack, I'm terrified of heights!' she shrieked and curled into his chest.

Jack's mischievous grin widened and brightened the twinkle in his eyes. 'Well this should be interesting then!'

They shot into the air like a firework, Charlie providing them with the squealing sound effects. Still flinching from the increasing pressure, she held a hand out and her lightning bolt swooped into it and shrank into the space where a jewel was meant to go at the front of her head wreath.

She clung to Jack for dear immortal life as they flew towards the snow and cold of the Pole, leaving a snapped burned tree, a collapsing ice tower and traces of glistening frost in their wake.


	9. Frosty, Bolts & Beard

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: So sorry this is late! I had allotted some time on Saturday night to starting it but then by friends threw me a freaking surprise party, which was pretty damn awesome XD Anyway, it's here now! I hope you guys like it and remember if you do to review for MiM's sake! I shan't bite! I shall probably, in fact, virtually hug thee ^.^**

**Chapter 9: Frosty, Bolts & Beard**

The first bite of cookie was perfectly to North's standards; buttery-soft inside a crisp shell, still warm so that the chocolate chips were slightly melted. However his high expectations for the sweet warm centre were met with an explosive heat that burned and pricked over his tongue and throat. He hopped around with his tongue hanging out on his beard, searching frantically for the sink in his vast kitchen. He skipped and tripped around and over the many giggling elves littering the room, then dowsed the fire in his throat with floods of tap water. After panting off the heat he slowly pivoted to glare down at each and every elf. He slowly stomped towards the bottle of hot sauce that was dancing behind one of the counters next to the bell of an elf's hat. The group of elves the culprit was showing off to glanced uneasily at the approaching Santa who was definitely far from jolly.

…

'Are you crazy?!' Charlie shrieked.

'Well some could probably argue that I am, yes. But I prefer tall, mischievous and dashing,' Jack cockily replied, with his hand on his hips and a dazzling smile.

Charlie glared up at the winter spirit as he floated along the dimly lit corridor, nearing the (what she presumed was) the workshop that was buzzing with light and the chaos of the fast-approaching Christmas. 'Yeah sure, Frosty. Just don't try that-' she had more snarky comments on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed them back as the sparkling lights and busy, flying wonders of the workshop came into full view below the banister.

'Just I…?' he smirked. When she giggled like a child and half sprinted, half stumbled down the central spiral staircase, he jumped and flew down from the banister, laughing and whooping all the way. He leaned on his staff by the staircase, watching her as she dodged and danced around the busy workshop giggling and beaming at all its wonders. She then began to mess with the yetis. She tapped them on the shoulders then hid behind work benches and threw paper airplanes at their heads then took the toys they were working on when they looked away. Jack laughed at her amazed innocence and mischievous childishness, soaking in how unbelievably adorable she was. '_Not this again_,' he scolded himself.

'_What? Admitting that she's adorable isn't exactly professing an undying love for her_,' his inner self reasoned.

'_Well I know that. But the way you keep causing these little feelings to rise up in me all the time… You actually make me realise why some people find me annoying! And that isn't an easy thing to do seeing as I have the biggest ego known to immortal man_.'

'_I'm a part of you. Henceforth, you're the one causing these feelings. Anyway, thinking she's beautiful (which is undeniably true) isn't a big deal and who says these are bad feelings_?'

'_Exactly. You're only a part of me – you're not me. Also, I can have conversations with you inside my head, which really creeps me out so I'm gonna stop this now before I turn completely insane_.'

His inner self simply laughed and remarked, 'you're not insane. It will all make sense soon. But for now you should just think about where these itty bitty affections are coming from and get back to me soon with an answer: "who says these are bad feelings?"'

The silky voice faded in echoes and Jack tightened his grip on his staff, taking deep breaths to rid of his anger. He didn't know why these "feelings" got to him, they just did. He supposed it might be because she was his friend but settling with an answer meant admitting that these urges and inklings he had were genuine. '_Everyone feels this way sometimes. I've just recently turned human; it'll just be the hormones_,' he convinced himself. He was snapped out of the maddening conversation with himself by taking a Styrofoam bullet to the face. He glared in the firing direction and found Charlie giggling down the barrel of a plastic gun. His glare turned playful and he smirked as her eyes widened at the snowball he was forming. As he expertly pitched the ball her way, she cursed aloud and scurried behind a shelf of toys just in time. She fired more ammo and he coldly responded. However, his sixth snowball and three of her bullets collided with a spicy flying elf. The elf squawked and squeaked as it log rolled through the air and crashed into a high stacked pyramid of blue robots. The yeti that had been painting them groaned and thumped his fist on the table, picking the spicy iced creature out from the wreckage and flinging him back in the direction he came from.

He made his second catastrophic landing on North's face. _Splat_. The large man trembled so vigorously that each strand of his beard shook as the elf slid down it, staining it orangey-red. His voice was low and dangerous, each syllable enunciated bitterly as he held the terrified elf inches from his face. 'No cookies for a _veek_. Scarper before I throw you in ze_ fourth floor_,' he threatened and dropped the elf that immediately fled with whimpers. North sighed and turned to all of the wary yetis with his usual jolly smile, 'sorry 'bout zhat! Everyvun back to vork!' He spotted Jack and a strange girl feverishly giggling by a yeti who was trying to stack blue toys back up. 'Good vork… But paint zhem red!' North ordered.

The yeti groaned and repeatedly hit his head off the worktop.

Jack finally managed to control his laughter. 'Awww. Don't beat yourself up about it, Phil,' Jack said, receiving an irritated glare in return. He held his hands up in mock surrender and backed away, bumping into a red belly behind him. 'Oh hey, North, How's things?' he enquired, hovering like a Genie with his staff across his lap.

North's smile wavered then collapsed completely. 'Not so good, m'boy. I show you, but it's not pretty…' he said, fear evident in his big blue eyes. 'Who is friend?' he asked with a wink at Jack.

Jack grimaced. 'This is my uh-friend, Charlie. She's the Spirit of Autumn,' he stammered.

'Hey, it's so awe-' Charlie started before being pulled into a North hug.

'Velcome Charlie!' he boomed, then put her down and tousled her hair.

Charlie laughed through the sheets of blonde hair masking her face. 'This place is amazing!' she exclaimed, still soaking it all in.

'Zhank you, I'm glad you zhink so!' he beamed. He discreetly added to Jack, 'she is very pretty, no?' then quickly continued, 'but I'm afraid fourth floor isn't so nice. I show you now,' he said, ushering them to follow him up the stairs.

They climbed the stairs until they exasperatedly reached the third floor. Jack smugly floated over the banister, smirking at the other two as they wheezed. They followed North down the darkest of the six corridors on that floor and the panels on the ceiling buzzed alight with their footsteps. They came to a lift. North pulled back the old fashioned shutter and they stepped inside. He put his hand against a scanner and it approved him access.

Charlie shivered. Even Jack shivered. Sure, the fourth floor was cold, but that wasn't what bothered them. The long corridor stretched out in front of them as they crept along it. They were the only moving beings and there was no window or vent for a breeze to enter through, yet the air seemed _alive_. It shifted around them and was cold and damp. The only light came from the few lanterns that remained and the escaping beams from some of the doors, leaving the corridor dark with just enough light to make the obscure eerie shadows evident. However, the worst climactic element was the noise; the unbearable silence was only corrected by the desperate whimpers, cries and screams of children that bounced off the walls of the claustrophobic corridor.

When they came to the door that Jack and Bunny had left the first victim behind, Jack looked uneasily at Charlie. She was shivering uncontrollably, her bottom lip trembled and her eyes were watering. Something inside him tugged and out of the sheer blindness he felt, he used the light feeling to guide him. It guided him to her hand and she squeezed it gratefully. North opened the door and they all squinted into the sudden white light as they entered the room.

The room reminded Charlie of a hospital. The ceiling was made up of panels of light, like in the third floor corridor, and the floor and walls were immaculate white. Her thoughts and insides pulled and churned as she took in the horror of what she saw; the room had two rows of ten beds, each of them occupying a squirming child, haunted by endless fear and nightmares. She recognised seven of them. Her human friend Claire's little sister lay rigid like a board, grimacing and shuddering. The twin boys that lived near the House and played with the younger kids there, were writhing in matching pyjamas with matted hair and tear stained cheeks. She spotted more friends' siblings, local kids and some she knew from the orphanage she visited fairly often. She knew them. Their families knew them. Their friends knew them. But, if they ever got out of this, she wasn't sure they'd remember anything other than the fear of their ghastly experiences. Jack willingly followed her to each of the beds as she wrote notes and drew quick little pictures for every child. Even though she didn't know many of them in depth, silent tears trickled down her cheek and nose and made little splashes in the ink. No one said a word.

…

Jack and Charlie had taken a snow globe back to the House. Silence had followed them until they'd said their sombre goodbyes to North, and it had remained throughout their walk up the lawn to the doors of the House, warmth and comfort promised inside.

Jack expected his thoughts to be running riot after all of that, but he sat on the floor outside his door in complete internal and external silence, not knowing what to think. Charlie hadn't said anything since leaving the North Pole. When it had come to their parting ways to their bedrooms she had just softly released his hand and walked away in a daze, turning back into her human form as he did the same. He desperately wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know if she knew any of those kids. He wanted to know the full meaning of her tears and the blessings she left. He wanted to know about her past. He wanted to know everything – not because he felt he had the right to, but because he knew _something_ was there; something was bothering her beyond all of the current goings-on and he had the feeling that he would understand. He wanted to comfort her. As these unfulfilled urges enveloped him, they turned bitter and he felt angry tears sting at his eyes. A figure moved past the corridor and up the stairs. He wiped his eyes and shook himself free of his unsure troubles, but the figure had gone. Curiosity got the better of him. He quietly turned the corner and tip toed up the stairs. He reached the top of the stairs quick enough to see the figure turn the same corner on this floor.

After climbing up the second set of stairs, he saw that a narrow but heavy door was open a crack. He hadn't been taken this far up in the House because Devil had said there wasn't much to see, but he followed his instincts and climbed the creaky staircase behind the open door as quietly as possible. As he neared the top he heard music ('**Toy Soldiers**' by **Martika**) playing.

The landing at the top of the stairs was a tiny square. He sat there and opened the wooden door just enough to peek through. It was the attic. The high beamed ceiling casted thin shadows across the vast floor, the silvery moonlight took up the rest of the space. The figure emerged from the shadows with elegant pointed steps. She wore a sports bra and leggings, and her feet were bare with the soles coated in flour. Jack held back a gasp as she span and arched back, leaping, weaving and waving gracefully in time with the music. Her skin and hair was silver in the light that shone through the large windows in the slanted roof. Her smooth, flexible movements created flour patterns on the glossy wooden floor and dust floated in and out of the light. Every minor detail made the scene beautiful. He could almost feel the intensity the music casted into her movements; the emotion it drove through her. He wished he could stay there all night, but the song was almost over and he had to get a head start back to his room so she wouldn't catch him and think him a creeper. He carefully closed the door and crept downstairs.

He curiously picked up the dropped object that he came across on the final set of stairs. When he got to his room he crawled into bed and lay there admiring it. It was an acorn from Charlie's wreath that had been coated slightly in frost. He smiled warmly and sat it on his bedside table, her beautiful dancing replaying in his mind as he started to fade into sleep. The argument he had with himself earlier came back to him and one of North's off hand comments followed: "'she is very pretty, no?'"

One of these days he knew he would have to be upfront and admit it: '_she's so much more_.'


	10. Merry Christmas, My Dear Mofo

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews etc. you lovely people! Please keep 'em coming! Hehehe, I feel evil… You'll find out why at the end, but don't jump there to see why because you'll ruin it! :P**

**Chapter 10: Merry Freaking Christmas, My Dear Mofo**

The light flashed pink, black then white behind Jack's eyelids, then again. It reminded him of the vision he had in his sleep. He wouldn't call it a dream but it wasn't necessarily a nightmare. He was just wandering in the dark, shadows forming unknown shapes. He just kept walking. Usually he would have called this a nightmare because of feeling lost in the unknown; after all we fear what we don't know. But his dream self had been calmly venturing through the warped darkness, he even seemed to treat the place with recognition. He turned at specific points, avoiding black masses, yet he didn't seem to be travelling with purpose. It was as though he was just meandering around, managing to see somehow, and waiting. But waiting for what? The whole debacle confused Jack more than anything.

He willed his eyes open and spotted the source of the flickering: the window was open, causing his curtains to waft around. He got up with intention of investigating further when he noticed his walls.

Someone had turned his light blue walls into a wintery art gallery. The wall that his headboard pressed up against was adorned with snowflakes of deep intricacy and different sizes. The one on his right, where his door was, showed an accurate representation of him flying amongst the fluttering snow with a cheeky smile on his face as always. The wall with his bathroom door had been made to look like a photograph taken by Natalie: Jack listening to his iPod in the Common Room, sticking his tongue out at a laughing Charlie sitting next to him, whilst Cassy holds Devil in a headlock on the floor in front of them. He laughed slightly as he remembered it. The window wall was decorated as a snowy forest landscape. The attention to detail in all of the works was breath taking.

Walking over to the window, he noticed an envelope on his bedside table. He opened it to find a Christmas card. '_Woah, that weird dream made me forget it was Christmas! That's just not right!_'

The card screamed "Charlie" with every detail. The front was a snow man in a stretch of white with scribbles all over it. There was a stick man and a stick woman, labelled "Bolts" and "Frosty", holding hands in front of the snowman who had a tear on his face and "forever alone" written above its head. It was covered in "Charlie" comments, a few of the best being "u r a poo but I loves u anyway bro", "Merry freaking Christmas my dear mofo" and "*posh voice* 'Oh indubitably. Spiffing, tip-top!'", the last one pointing to the moustache on his stick self. He laughed then opened it up to find not a message but a long letter:

'_Dear Frosty,_

_I realise now that I shouldn't have made that bet – I should have just told you about my past straight away. As much as I hate to ruin a beautifully (if I do say so myself) crafted card (I mean srsly, check out da shading in yo moustache!) and as much as I'd like to explain it to you in person, I've decided to be a wee fearty and tell you this way:_

_When I was twelve and my sister six, our mum took ill. Or at least that's what everyone had pinned it down as; mental illness. It started out with fainting quite often and sleeping a lot more than what was deemed normal. She would wake up in the middle of the night to tremble outside our bedroom doors. We would find her in the morning claiming to have stayed up all night "guarding" us and keeping the "shadows" away. I regrettably had bought into the illness ordeal at first, after all to any human that would sound rather mad. But as years went by she got worse. She kept going on about protecting us from the "shadows" and "darkness", saying that they were "growing stronger", "closing in". My little sister even grew frightened of her._

_When we were very little she told us tales of the Guardians and Spirits, everything a child could dream of. The being she told us about most often was a sorceress called Cynthia, who used her powers to keep the likes of the Boogeyman at bay. One night she told my sister and me that she was the sorceress and that we had to go into hiding, "somewhere light where the shadows wouldn't reach us". We didn't really know what to say to this. My sister was beyond comprehension, wanting for nothing other than our mum's peace from the "illness". I, however, had clearer understanding, belief even._

_A month previous to this I had been seeing shapes form in the shadows, having all sorts of nightmares from the vivid and horrific kind to empty and lonely. At first I passed it off as my mum's gibberish playing at my subconscious, but then everything got too __real__._

_The night she made the confession of her identity she was taken away to a mental health ward. I was in ruins, feeling all of the fear and paranoia of the slowly unveiling truth and the horrors that I saw, her leaving piling an even heavier weight._

_The night of my death, I heard my mum's voice in my sleep. She told me that it was too late for her, that they would find her that night and she wouldn't be able to defend herself, and that they would grow stronger. She said that I had to keep hidden and protect my sister along with myself. She said that I was like her – "gifted" – and that if they got me they would take my gift and use it to plunge the world into never ending darkness. As expected, Pitch Black was behind it. When I then knew that her life was in danger, I ran through the storm to find her, following the shadows and the remnants of her voice in my head. As I splashed through the lake, I was stopped in my tracks by the man himself. He said that she was already dead and that I was next. Before he managed to get hold of me, lightning struck me dead and that was that._

_But of course "that" wasn't "that", because I became this sexy beast… and Pitch knows. He even knows where I stay, he just has never been dumb enough to come after me in a mansion packed with trained spirits._

_For centuries I was clear of the "illness", I went on as normal, but the holes my mum left in the truth have haunted me. She said "they" and the only culprit I'm aware of is Pitch, meaning that someone else killed my mum when Pitch came after me. They're accomplices and we need to find out who Mr Mystery is, and how this all ties in with the kids in the nightmarish states. We need to uncover their plan to come up with our own and look into this "gift" thing._

_I'm not just telling you all of this because we're on the same "team" in a sense, or even because I promised I would at some point. I simply feel like I can trust you, no matter how many snowballs you fire at my face. Check me out, the true romantic._

_Anyway, I should probably mention that the "illness" is back. It's not at its worst yet but I've started getting more paranoid again, seeing things, not being able to sleep, getting stuck in ongoing sleep and having nightmares. Please don't freak out about it, now that I know more I can attempt to overcome it, and who knows maybe I'll find the answers we need in my nightmares. What I will need for definite though, is support. I think that if my sister and I had actually been there for my mum rather than fearing her, she would have gained more confidence and fought against it. I'm incredibly lucky to have friends like you. I know you'll help me and I know that we can defeat Pitch and his BFFL. I now feel really guilty for not telling Natalie sooner so I'm going to do that now._

_Merry Christmas Frosty, hope you like your walls._

_Lots of love and Styrofoam bullets,_

_Charlie x_

_P.S. I saw you being all "mission impossible" watching me dance, Spy Kid. You should have showed yourself, I could have taught you some moves! Idea: I'm going to teach you how to tap dance! Oh my glob, that's so happening…_

_Hope you enjoy like your present!_

_Go downstairs to find out what it is…_

_Why are you still reading this?_

_Go!_

_Go!_

_Go!_

…

…

…

_Poop.'_

Jack gave an exasperated laugh, not knowing which of the hundreds of inflicted emotions to act on first. He read it over again. Then again.

He decided he'd talk to her about it later and act on the persistent "go's" first. He placed the letter under his pillow and sauntered down the stairs, still unsure of what to feel. One thing he was sure of was that he was going to help her through this, without a doubt, he was going to be there for her. For the sake of the uninformed mass of spirits, he shook off his solemn confusion and fixed his dark hair in a nearby mirror (keeping his priorities in order). As the laughter and joyful buzz of Christmas echoed down the hall from the main living room, his childish excitement crept back into place. He took a running start then skidded down the hall, gripping his hand on the door frame to swing himself into the glowing room.

Gasps, sighs, cheers, laughs and shouts all sounded upon his entrance. Older spirits gripped the younger ones' ankles and pulled them back as they feverishly squirmed towards the colossal Christmas tree by the fire, presents streaming and stacked under and around the decorated tower.

'He's here! You said we could open them when he got here! He's here, he's here, he's here!' a little boy with long wavy blonde hair shrieked as he pounced at the presents. Devil caught him and held him down next to the other agitated shriekers. Cassy stood and held the remote for the CD player, shouting 'ready? One… Two… Three!' She pressed a button and 'Frosty the Snowman' rang out through the room, barely audible above the excited squeals, screams and cheers of the kids as they charged at the presents, hunting theirs down with hunger. All of the older spirits laughed in unison at the entertaining tradition and Jack sat on the floor next to Charlie, matching her cross legged position.

She wore a red and white Christmas jumper, white pyjama bottoms and her usual fluffy green slipper boots. When she didn't notice him, he abruptly hugged her waist and pulled her back to lie across his lap, targeting her stomach and neck with tickles.

She squirmed and squealed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder once he sat her back next to him. 'Why are you such a poo?' she asked, squishing his cheeks forward so that he wall pulling a fish face.

'I try my best to be a charming annoyance but a "poo"? That, my dear "mofo", is harsh,' he said with mock hurt, after freeing his face. He laughed when she simply stuck her tongue out, but his expression and tone then took on soft concern. 'You okay? Well, that's a stupid question – of course you're not – but… I'm here for you, y'know?' he assured with a squeeze of her hand.

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. 'I'm fine right now; awake. I knew you would be… There's a lot more to you than the mischievous smirking bravado.'

He smiled and rested his head on hers. 'Only you get to meet that guy though.'

'And why is that? Silly question, of course it's because I'm _awesome_,' she corrected herself before getting up and venturing over to the Christmas tree that was no longer a war zone. She danced back over to him with a fairly small red wrapped box as 'Winter Wonderland' came on. 'Here's part two of your present, Frosty!' she jumped up and down excitedly, spinning and hugging some of the others then returning to see his reaction.

A warm smile graced his handsome features as he carefully took the leather black watch out of the casing. The wristband was simple, contrasting with the detailed silver clock face. Instead of numbers there were dark blue symbols on the white face: a lightning bolt for one, a fireball for two, a butterfly for three, a water drop for four, a skyscraper for five, a NY symbol for six, a four leafed clover for seven, two halves of a heart for eight and nine, an Easter egg for ten, a present for eleven and a snowflake for twelve. The centre was a silver moon with two hands ticking around it. The longer hand had a miniature Sandman on the end of it and the shorter one had a silver tooth. 'Charlie… This is amazing! How did you…?'

She jumped around clapping her hands and explained, 'Natalie took me back to the workshop a few days after we went and I drew out some plans for North, then he did his magic stuff, ta-dah! Do you like it? Do you, do you, do you?' she grinned hopefully.

'I love it, it's great!' he laughed and pulled her into a hug. She nuzzled into the hug and closed her eyes, wanting to stay there for a while, then Jack held her back to look at her. 'Of course you would be number one though!' he said accusingly with a raised eyebrow.

'Obviously!' she scoffed, placing the watch on his wrist and fastening the shiny buckle.

Realisation dawned on Jack, 'wait, did you say "part two" of my present?'

'Yep! You have to wait until dinner for the final part. Part one was the painted walls, did you like them?'

'How could I not?!' warmth flushed him as she beamed up at him. 'You're unbelievably talented, they look awesome! Thanks for… everything.'

'Don't thank me yet, the best is yet to come.' She tried her best to form a mysterious smoulder but they just burst out laughing.

The two were too caught up in their bubble of blushes and denial to notice their friends scheming in a huddle.

Jack sat down next to her on a couch, bringing with him his gift for her. She beamed giddily, opening the small blue box with great care. Inside sat a pale gold charm bracelet. She smiled at it in awe as he took it out the box and clasped it around her wrist. The thin chain graced her slim wrist beautifully and two small charms dangled from it, a lightning bolt and a "B". 'Merry Christmas, Bolts,' he smiled.

Still at a loss for words, her reply was replaced with the rest of the group jumping up around the couch, each mischievously dangling mistletoe at them.

'Go on, Frostbite!' Nixie chided.

Both victims blushed. Jack glared at them, then noticed Charlie's sheepish smile. '_She's okay with this_?' he startled. The group started singing '**Kiss the Girl**' from **The Little Mermaid**, the taunting sound mixing with his inner self's snickers.

When she saw his "dear caught in headlights" expression, Charlie laughed and shuffled closer to him. She nudged him with her arm, 'come on, Frosty. It's just a bit of Christmas fun,' she urged. She turned so that she was facing him and gave a reassuring smile and a shrug.

'_Do I? Don't I? Fine, I admit that I like her, but why does it have to be this way?!_' He sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. '_Oh yeah, because I'm friends with these idiots_…'


	11. No Surprises

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: I struggled a wee bit with this chapter because this is my first fan fiction, meaning that I have never described these feelings and… moments… before XD So feedback would be very much appreciated because reviews make me happy and let me know people are enjoying what I'm writing, which really helps with keeping up the rate of updates, and they let me know if there's anything not quite right. I seriously recommend you listen to the two songs that play throughout the chapter because it puts you in the right mood for the chapter and I find that it helps with imagining it. Also, they happen to be awesome songs :3 Enjoy! **

**Chapter 11: No Surprises**

So Christmas hadn't turned out as expected…

Jack was dressed smartly in a white button up shirt with an ice blue tie, black dress trousers and shoes. He sat at an extremely long and elegantly crafted table in the dining room that was used only on special occasions. Everyone sat at their assigned places, Mark across from him and an empty chair at the golden name plate that read "Charlie", beside him; how awkward. Or at least everyone else thought it would be so, hence the nervous glances that were darting at the worried winter spirit who was determined not to make eye contact with anyone, clenching the lacy table cloth in his fist. They all knew she hadn't rejected his kiss, that there was something wrong with her, but they still seemed to think that he was embarrassed by it. He knew better. Charlie had leaned in just as he had. The others had been cheering, drum rolling on the nearest surfaces. Their lips had nearly met. It had been so _close_ to happening. But instead she'd grimaced dizzily, brought a hand to her clammy forehead, and then fleetingly staggered from the room. He'd ran after her with Natalie, but they were met with a slam of the bathroom door and 'it's okay! I'm just feeling a bit ill all of a sudden! Tell Jack I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it.'

And so he was left spending Christmas dinner with bitter thoughts, just as he had all afternoon. Yet it still wasn't over, he knew that he'd have to continue worrying about her all evening, until she'd get the chance to explain what was wrong. Well he knew what was wrong, it was obviously the "illness", _Pitch_ was what was wrong. '_Part of me wishes he'd attack just so that I could get close enough to finish him_,' he internally growled as sweat heated his clenched fist. He looked at the grandfather clock: "8.23", two minutes after he last checked.

The head of the House of Spirits, Mr Thomas, had arrived shortly prior to the dinner and sat at the head of the table. He had brown combed back hair and thin silver rimmed glasses. He adorned a black waist coast with a silk ascot. No one had cared to inform him of what sort of spirit he was because gossiping about Charlie's well being was far more interesting. Davet had told him that the Head only stayed for special occasions and during school terms. Everyone had still been talking to Jack, but they were all worried about Charlie and on edge in case they were to embarrass or offend him after the morning's events. Davet, however, had been calm as always, talking to him like a normal person rather than someone precariously dangling on the verge of a breakdown.

As Mr Thomas toasted the second course of the meal, Natalie entered the room and sat at her seat, two spaces diagonally across from Jack. He gathered all of his worry and compacted it into an agonising stare as she sat down. '_Come on, say something. Give me a sign or hint. Anything?_'

When everyone asked the same question all at once, she smiled reassuringly and replied, 'she's fine. She was just dizzy and feeling a little sick, so she's going to sleep some more.' Everyone exhaled and got on with their dinner, content with her answer. 'She says sorry for "ruining" Christmas and "delaying dinner",' she chuckled.

They all muttered their objections to her taking fault and nervously laughed while Jack looked at her incredulously. '_That's it? There's obviously more to it, and you know it. Tell me!_,' he begged, praying to MiM that he could telepathically communicate with her just for a few seconds.

When she saw his distress, Natalie unveiled her confident mask of and cheeriness to give him a piercing apprehensive glance. That millisecond was all he needed. He excused himself and headed upstairs, trying his best not to sprint out of the room.

He knocked on her bedroom door to no reply. He knocked again. Silence.

He knew that it was wrong, but he couldn't bare it any longer. He strode into the room, frantically searching for the pale figure accentuated by long honey curls and lightly rosy cheeks. All he found was Charlie's room littered in Charlie's possessions, walls decorated with Charlie's artwork and memories. Yet, there was no Charlie.

Tugging off and throwing away his tie, he sat on the autumn red sheets of her bed. '_So Natalie was definitely lying. She's not sleeping, which is good seeing as Pitch would probably try to get to her through nightmares. But from the look Natalie gave me, whatever state she is in must be pretty bad._' He lay back on her bed, looking at her sketches on the opposite wall. Out of the ones that he could see from that distance at least five of them were of either Jack and her, or just Jack. He walked up to them, admiring their detail and the accuracy of his blue eyes and facial structure, every stand of his dark hair in its usual place. He let out a laugh when he noticed a smaller one featuring him (in spirit form) grinning as he flies, holding her bridal style while she cowers against his chest. Every single picture of them triggered recent memories, causing everything inside him to scream "Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!" He lightly stroked his thumb across her paper cheek on a close up of them slow dancing in his room, and then noticed the one above it: beautiful dusty light casting from a high beamed ceiling, down on a leaping figure in a lacy black dress. He smiled remembering her mesmerising dance and her "spy kid" comment about it in the letter, then it hit him like a door to the face (a sudden notion that Jack was familiar with): 'she's in the attic,' he whispered aloud before flinging himself out the room and sprinting along the corridors and up the stairs, almost as fast as he could fly in "Frosty form".

He wasn't sure what he expected to see. From the warning stare he received from Natalie, probably her writhing around in need of help or sitting down with a cloth to her head in an "ill" state. Instead he found her motionlessly standing by a wall lined with all sorts of mirrors, hung close together in attempt to resemble the mirrored wall of a dance studio. '**No Surprises**' by **Radiohead** echoed through the vast attic, bouncing all the way up to the dancing dust in the roof and back down, then around again, but it was as though she didn't notice at all. She just stared at her reflection, some would say in a blank manner but that wisdom was there. He could see it working away behind her eyes, drawing salt water to the brim of each. The small circular stain glass window (that could be seen from the front of the house) was open slightly, allowing the evening chill to rustle their hair and the white gold skirt of the dress he so famously adored her in. He took calm, paced steps towards her to make sure that he didn't startle her. He stood beside her with his hands in his pockets to keep himself from fidgeting, unable to remember the last time he'd felt this worried about someone.

She didn't acknowledge his presence for several minutes but he didn't want to interrupt her thoughts. Eventually she spoke, 'sounds nice, doesn't it? "No alarms and no surprises", just peace.'

Jack's brow furrowed further, slightly taken aback from her odd topic of conversation. His worry didn't lessen, to say the least. 'But isn't this song about-?'

'-Suicide. Yes.' She looked down nervously. 'People say it's about a man wanting to escape from the trapped feeling of everyday life – to break the system of school, job, marriage, family, and so on; away from the alarm every morning and life's change.' She gave out an exasperated laugh and looked back up at her reflection again, one tear escaping over the dam that had been flooding up for so long. 'It seems silly, right? I mean, our lives are far from normal so it's not particularly relevant to us now. But I remember when that stuff mattered – when I strived to be a dancer and artist, anything that would let me express myself and keep me out of the box, the system. I guess I just miss having such simple worries. Everything's different now.'

Jack leaned back against a long rustic-looking mirror to see her face. 'It's not silly. Sure, life was simpler then, but I think it's safe to say it's more interesting now,' he smiled, gaining a small one in return. 'We're always going to be thinking about our past and wondering what could have happened. Reflection and curiosity is to be expected of someone who didn't get to finish their life naturally, especially for you because of the – the "illness".'

'Yeah… About that… When I went dizzy earlier, I, uh, fainted and relived some memories from my early childhood... Th-they were all times that I saw a strange figure. I only ever saw the lower half of his face because he wore a black hooded cloak and he always used to appear in corners, in the shadows. He would stand and watch me with no expression. They were all times from when I was no older than a toddler – when I was too young to know I should have been frightened. After that, I never saw him again. I don't know who or _what_ he is, but he must be the one that's working with Pitch,' she said with a voice close to a whisper, her Scottish accent growing thicker as her past life clouded her thoughts. More tears fell but she didn't sob.

Jack didn't enquire further or try to swing this round to the positive of getting more information about Pitch and the figure's plan. He simply took her waist and turned her into his arms, embracing her warmth and stroking her back as the sobs finally shook her. He held her close, wishing that his sheltering height could keep her safe from what awaited them. He couldn't protect her from the pain but he was there to help her take the hit.

The wintery breeze filled the silence of the song change, before the uplifting strum of '**Disarm**' by **Smashing Pumpkins** rang out across the room, right up to the dusty rafters. 'I feel silly crying in front of you,' she mumbled like a little girl. She took the tissue Jack handed her with an embarrassed laugh and cleaned herself up.

'You have good reason to,' he smiled sadly.

'Yeah, but at times like these we just need to push on. This is the way Pitch wants us to be and I shouldn't be indulging him. I need to stop the whinging,' she laughed as she tucked the tissue under one of her discarded high heels, so that it wouldn't blow away, and then took Jack's hand and walked him into a large square of moonlight in the centre of the room.

'In your defence, you are an immortal teenager. You're bound to complain! And mumble, and whine and communicate by means of the teenage language called "grunting"…'

Charlie put some of her curls over her face and moaned, 'nobody understands me!' in her best "stroppy teenager" voice. They laughed as he span her out then back into him. She giggled self-consciously when she had to hold her skirt down at the shorter front, while the long back whipped around her. She was pulled back to a slow dancing position, with her hands around Jack's neck, and noticed that Jack's smile was no longer sad nor that of his cheeky laughing grin. It instead held warmth and contentment, matching the sparkle in his blue eyes, the ones she'd grown so fond of painting because of their shape, depth, and array of blue shades. She knew she was looking up at him the same way he was gazing back at her. She'd felt this way with Jack before; warm, happy and peaceful, everything about him drawing her in and making her feel like she had known him for centuries.

This feeling didn't bring a blush to their cheeks, make them sweat or nervously giggle. This feeling was comfortable and… _confident_. They didn't know exactly what this feeling was – if it was love or not – but they did know that they were confident in whatever it was. It simply felt right. His fingers left tingling sensations as they ran up her side to rest on the small of her back, whilst the other hand stayed on her waist. It felt right for him to hold her so close and securely yet so gently. It felt right for him to lift her even closer. He closed his eyes and leaned in towards her, and his lips gently brushed hers. As she caressed a hand through his dark soft hair and brought the other from the back of his neck to cradle his pale cheek, returning the sweet kiss was the most indisputably right thing she'd ever done. It felt amazing to be so clear about something, she had never been so sure of anything; Jack was right for her. Their mutual contentment for the moment and the clarity of their feelings was savoured through their kisses, as the silvery light shone upon them beyond the darkness of the shadows and the blissful moment was repeated by their many reflections.

They finally broke apart and smiled giddily at the strange feeling that was moving on from friendship. It felt like there was a buzz of electricity around them, sparking off of Jack's tousled hair and reflecting in the sparkle of their eyes. 'I just kissed Jack Frost,' she laughed in disbelief.

He beamed at her being suddenly girly and cute over him. For once he didn't reply to a personal comment with a smirk. He span her under his arm and continued their previous swaying as he laughed, 'congratulations, you got me to grow up for _several minutes_… But you'll never get me to tap dance.'

'Oh, we'll see!' she scoffed.


	12. Plans for the New Year

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Sorry this is late, I have a few prelim exams right now, which royally sucks **** I'll try to make the Monday updates but they might run a couple of days late in some cases. However, I'm pretty clear on what the next chapter's going to be like so it should be up on Monday, if not before then **** Now that it's here, I hope you enjoy it and purdy pwease review – let me know what you think/feel! **** (Thank you very much for the guest reviews. I thought I'd just say it here seeing as I can't message you ^.^ ).**

**Chapter 12: Plans for the New Year**

[Jack]

_Have you got any plans for the New Year?_

_Sounds nice._

_I was planning on settling into school for a while and enjoying the year with my friends and Charlie, my amazing Charlie. I was actually really looking forward to keeping our relationship a secret for a few weeks, to see how crazy the others would get if we just randomly kissed in front of them. We had loads of plans like that – silly. Then things got darker, literally:_

'Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,' everyone in the living room shouted out the countdown, poppers and hugs and kisses at the ready for the ball's drop. 'Five, four,' Jack joined in whilst laughing at Charlie who, though radiantly dressed in red, wore her party hat like as unicorn horn like a five year old. 'Three,' Charlie discarded her hat and took a step back, ready to jump into Jack's arms. 'Two,' Jack beamed at her, excited that this New Year would actually hold significance for him.

'One!' Poppers and streamers burst into colour and motion, to be met with sudden darkness.

Mr Thomas tried to switch the lights on but they lit the room for the second that was needed to see Charlie collapsed on the floor, and then flickered out again, and the TV buzzed and whined with fuzzy white and black on screen that ghostly illuminated the room, before flickering out, also, into condensed black. People tried to use the light of their phones to find their way to her, but they refused to respond, as desolate as the darkness. There were screams and shouts, people calling out, trying to find each other, or any possible source of light. In the stress and tension of the scenario everything seemed louder. Mr Thomas smashed and crashed across the room, breaking and crushing the unknown and feebly yelling for everyone to remain calm as he attempted to yank the curtains back, to then end up pulling them down completely, metal rail and all. The pole clanged on the floor as the dim moonlight graced only half of their leader's face, his shoulders hunched, waistcoat torn and ascot nowhere to be seen. In the stress of the situation he looked older, a few of his hairs appearing slightly grey in the dull light.

Although everyone had been chaotically trying to find each other before, no one moved now. They all just stared wide and watery eyed at the girl on the floor, heavy, anxious breathing and shivers carrying through the silence with the groans and creaks of the wind straining against the window panes, fighting to get through any gaps. They watched as Jack knelt carefully down beside her, not caring to hide his tears. The poor light didn't allow him to see her properly but a little blue light bobbed over to him, with the whispering sound of light wing beats. Natalie followed behind it. She whispered something to it and it hovered above Charlie. It expanded until its aura shone blue all over the sprawled figure and its form was clear enough to be identified as a butterfly.

Jack reached out to touch his girlfriend's face and Natalie flinched, praying that her closest friend wasn't in the same state as the child victims. But nothing happened. In a way, this was just as bad as if she were to have screamed relentlessly, crying shadows like the tormented children; this way, they had no idea what wrong with her. Was she having nightmares? Was she being hurt? Did this have anything to do with the children? Was the illness getting worse? Was this a sign of attack? They had too many questions and no answers.

Jack cried into her limp hand while Natalie tried to wake her up. The others were too scared to say anything for a while. No one knew what to think, never mind say, but their tears ran along the contours of their faces with their only knowledge: this was serious – she wasn't waking up.

'She's not waking up, why won't she wake up?' Nixie said hurriedly, her voice rising.

'She's nothing like the child victims… so there's only one thing this could be…' Natalie trailed off, fear and worry widening her blue eyes as they looked knowingly at Jack.

Jack didn't say anything. He merely swallowed and nodded once, tears drying cold on his cheeks while he stared at his girlfriend. Natalie looked down in guilt of knowledge and loss of hope for Charlie ever beating this.

'Don't just sit there! You both know something, don't think we haven't noticed – we figured if Charlie wanted to tell us, she would, so we accepted it. But now she is lying unconscious on the floor in some unnatural way, and you know what's wrong – tell us!' Nixie yelled, choking on sobs as her strength wavered towards the end. Amadour held her hand comfortingly. 'Please,' she croaked.

Natalie explained Charlie's past; her mother, the nightmares, her death, pitch and his unknown accomplice and the "illness", all whilst keeping her head down.

Mark stepped forward. 'Why didn't she tell us? Or why didn't one of you? We all could have helped her – we could have found a way to beat it. You've known Pitch's plan all along-'

'You think I didn't want to tell you – that I didn't want to get her all the help she needed?!' Natalie snapped as she looked up at him, angular cheeks wet and slight nose red. 'She was scared of being the target, ashamed of being weak and she underestimated Pitch's power. She thought that it wouldn't be able to get too serious because she was around loads of other Spirits; she figured he'd be stupid to attack her here, but clearly she's mistaken!' She dropped her gaze to her collapsed friend. 'She didn't want anyone else to know, so we respected that.' She stood up with a sigh and wiped her cheeks, 'but all of that's beside the point now. I'm sick of just sitting back and waiting. When we're not waiting we're training – the same training we've done for years, we're doing ourselves no favours, especially now that this has happened. The point is that we all know what there is to know and we need to use that to come up with a plan and focus on the enemy, not ourselves.'

'She's right. I'm not planning on waiting much longer whilst Charlie's like this and Pitch is gallivanting free, awaiting an ass-kicking,' Jack said with a stone voice and expression. He scooped Charlie into his arms and started walking towards the door. 'I'll take her to her room,' he said after already leaving.

The group sat on the floor and sofas around the mahogany coffee table, now determined to push against the strong force of Pitch's fear as they talked tactics and nightmares.

Mr Thomas brushed past the teenagers and sped upstairs to Charlie's room, where he found Jack Frost sitting by Charlie's occupied but empty bed, as cracked as the frost on the window. 'I know this is difficult for you, Jack, she's a close friend of yours. But MiM brought you here for a reason. You're cooperation and involvement in this fight is vital for our success. I think it's best you plan with them, they're coming up with some really good ideas down there. Whatever has happened to her is awful,' he nodded at Charlie with a sympathetic smile, 'but it can give us the drive to fight back. Use it Jack, don't let it use you.'

Jack peered up at him. 'That's easier said than done,' he said gruffly. With a small sigh he stood and walked past him, 'But I'll try – for her.' With that, he slumped downstairs, leaving the House leader to gaze sadly after him, standing in –what may as well have been – an empty room.


	13. Research, 'Rosyln' & Fuzzy Lego Boxes

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Well hello there! I know this is late (again) but I'm trying, trust me! Thank you for all of the reads, it makes me feel all "asdfghjkl awww :3". That's right, we're all about deeply emotional and professional descriptions here!**

**I don't own the rights to ROTG or any of the music mentioned but it would be pretty damn awesome if I did and I do recommend that you check out the music, if you don't already know it ;)**

**(Sorry things are getting a bit "blegh" and not "happy days, they're totally both safe, well and in love", especially seeing they just recently kissed, but I really had to get the plot moving on. I tried to add in some humour as to not bum you out (and/or cause you to burst into tears, but somehow I don't imagine this chapter is **_**that**_** powerful XD)**

**Chapter 13: Research, 'Rosyln' and Fuzzy Lego Boxes**

"… _Involves the practitioner reaching states of out of body and/or higher consciousness... Shamans are said to have knowledge beyond humans of the unknown… Ideology intrigued many philosophers… blah, blah, blah…."_

"… _Blah-de-blah… Stanley Tambiah believes magic, science and religion all have a "quality of rationality" and are similarly influenced (i.e. by ideology, politics etc.)…"_

"_Because of how deeply personal religion is, it is appealing and effective. Many believe that magical thinking works in similar ways... Heavily influenced by ones thoughts… Conjures the question: if we are capable of thinking of such things, who's to say those thoughts can't develop further? Who's to say magic doesn't or can't exist?"_

'Philosophy, blah, totally related to religion and science, blah-de-blah-blah. "Oh, this could be real! But is it? I don't know, so let's just waffle on for eight _freaking_ hundred pages using fancy words and lots of quotations to make it look like I know what I'm talking about and that there's actually a point to – this – book!"' Nixie's voice grew shrill with frustration; her words detached as she hit the brick of pages off the bean bag and then decided throwing it across the room would cause it more pain. The librarian shot her a bug-like glare through the round glasses sitting on the ridge of her powdery nose.

Natalie mouthed an apology to her, then stomped over to the book and cradled it in her arms, checking for injuries. 'Thank MiM this is a hard back, you could have seriously damaged it, Nix!'

'Oh, what a shame that would have been!' she exclaimed with a voice almost physically thick with sarcasm.

'They have feelings, you know!' The pixie-brunette yelled as she gently placed the book back on its shelf, on a ladder, way up near the ceiling of the massive but stuffy library. 'But I can't deny that we're wasting our time here,' she whispered when she returned. 'I just thought there might be some human myths about dark spirits or sorcery that could help us with Charlie or the freaky hooded guy.'

'It was worth a try, but all that's here are trees worth of paper wasted on over thinking and rewording the same point over and over and over, over again, and over, maybe I'll just mention- nope, over and over-'

'-Not a fan of philosophy, huh?'

Nixie stared blankly at her and knocked over a towering stack of said "wasted trees" in reply.

With fumbling fingers, the librarian shoved her round glasses up her nose and bustled over. 'Out!' she shrieked, he wrinkled jowls quivering.

…

'Please tell me you guys have found something?' Devil threatened, rather than asked, as the two girls returned from the public library with nervous, almost guilty, stances and smiles.

Natalie shuffled her wings awkwardly and nodded at Nixie. Nixie tightened her ponytail and wrung her hands in her Alice Cooper t-shirt. 'Ummm, I'd like to say we did…'

As moans and huffs shot at them, Natalie offered, 'Nixie hates philosophy?'

Everyone rolled their eyes and went back to reading or internet searching, all looking for answers of some kind. Even Sia was doing research (albeit whilst painting her nails and swapping between the potentially useful book and a gossip magazine).

Mark's hair dangled towards the floor like brown vines, as he read lying on the ceiling, facing down at them. Tanya walked through book shelves, absorbing little bits of information from the books as she passed through them. Nothing of use jumped out at her. They had all spent three weeks like this. Life didn't exist outside of Charlie, sorcery and the evil forces working against them. They feared it would drive them mad or they would catch the "illness" and they hated themselves for it – they were unintentionally giving Pitch what he wanted. Everything outside the House passed them by worryingly fast, yet, inside, life was slow and hope was deflating. School only added to the pressure and confusion, though no one dared complain about it for there was Jack. They couldn't begin to imagine the stress, grief and pressure he was buckling under. They tried their best to comfort him and help him through _everything_ that was going on, but he had pushed them away. Now, he rarely spoke, appearing empty but overwhelmingly emotionally conflicted all at the same time, though they knew where to find him.

….

'… I bounded from roof to roof as fast as I could *cough* faster-than-Frostbite *cough*, swiftly collecting teeth from houses all over the world, while Smirky-Snowflakes over here fell into to my cunning traps time and time again! I hate to boast but, let's be honest, I collected the most li'l shiny pegs and, in short, saved the day!' Bunnymund finished his enthusiastic and action packed story, with a sly grin at the (currently) silvery-white head facing away from him. He would probably have bowed, but his audience didn't applaud seeing as they were forty-or-so kids in nightmare riddled comas.

Sandy glanced over at Jack expectantly, but the spirit didn't rise up to the teasing. In fact, Bunny's low twang was just white noise, pushed from thought, as he listened to '**Rosyln**' by **Bon Iver & St. Vincent** on his iPod. He sat on the floor at the other side of the long room, facing away from his peers and the disturbing sight of the pained children, surrounded by piles of school books.

He'd taken Mr Thomas' words on board and flung himself into research on Pitch's plan, which was what they had all agreed to do as a first step. He had been determined at first, but that merely lasted a week; he'd tried everything and every hopeless book he read just knocked him down further. He was sick of feeling helpless, so he gave up, leaving the others to read over the same things for another two weeks in desperate hope of finding one tiny detail they may have missed the first time round. He hated feeling useless and even envied their ability to push on, but he _couldn't_. The others were worried that he would be driven to insanity once school started and, at times, he believed them to be right. But whenever he felt this way, he listened to music and dove into schoolwork. It may seem completely un-Jack-like and boring, but he sought solace in it as it was the only non-spirit (i.e. non-Charlie, non-Pitch, non-sickeningly-depressing) part of his life now. Also, he genuinely enjoyed school, well, the classes at least. They took his mind off of everything and allowed him to show potential and try new things, learn, and he found it all to be quite fascinating, something new. He sat with his spirit friends and their human friends at lunch, but they had been growing distant from him. They were mad at him for "giving up so easily" and "sulking off all the time" but were held back from doing anything about it because of sympathy, so they instead chose to slowly drift from him. Well, really they didn't chose to do so, but Jack saw them gradually slipping away, subconsciously. He didn't want to lose them, but he couldn't stand facing the ordeal he was supposed to be a part of, so he stayed clear, stubborn as ever.

Every day he woke up, spread winter everywhere, got ready for school, went to school, went to North's Workshop to study away from everyone and to see the Guardians, then returned to the House and read and talked at his empty, unresponsive girlfriend – sounds fun, right?

As for the Workshop, the only progress made here was Sandy recognising that the same barrier which prevented him from seeing the children's' nightmares, was blocking him from Charlie's. Other than that, everything was falling apart; children of all ages were being brought to the fourth floor corridor in hordes, every night. The shadows were even working their way to the borders of California now – it was safe to say that the humans had noticed _something_ was wrong. The media were leaping onto each new event in the "Coma Kids Catastrophe", clinging onto it like leeches and draining all that they could from it. Unfortunately, it got worse every day, meaning they would never manage to suck the story dry.

The sine graph stared at Jack from his math textbook. He wasn't sure how many times he'd read it, it just filtered from his mind with each try. He'd been studying for an hour. Whenever he got to this point each day, he found that the equations and literacy extracts, things that have simple logic bound to them, were no longer strong enough to keep his thoughts from Charlie. Today he'd been defeated a little sooner than usual. His conversation with Davet, his now closest (almost only) friend, at lunch, still gnawed at his mind:

'_If her mom's powers were taken from her so swiftly, why is Pitch holding back with Charlie?' Jack had asked, whilst staring darkly at his untouched plate. 'I mean, it's not as though she's in any state to fight him; he could just waltz in and- you know.'_

_Davet thought on it. 'Although we're pretty shaken up, we're all still extremely well trained spirits and there are a lot of us, plus the Guardians' strength… Maybe he's still not keen on taking his chances,' he calmly mused, leaning back in his chair. That was something Jack envied Davet for – his calmness. He wasn't cracking in the slightest and never seemed to be worried, stressed or scared. But this made him easy to talk to, in fact, it was getting increasingly difficult to be a frantic mess with him, which he was thankful for. 'Unless…' he paused, as the front legs of his chair returned to the floor, 'unless what she's going through right now is the process of draining…' He looked at Jack, slightly wary for once._

_Jack shook his head, his eyes never leaving the plate, 'the victim needs to be conscious for that to be so, and she's, well, not…'_

'_How do you know that?'_

'_It was the only remotely useful thing I found out when turning the library upside down for a week. You guys are just looking at everything we've already looked at, again and again. It's pointless going on like this. We don't have the resources for looking into such dark magic.'_

_Fully knowing that Jack's attitude towards the others (and vice versa) was a touchy subject, Davet had instead proposed, 'she could be in some state of subconscious?'_

'_Wouldn't she have responded to me somehow, though? I've spent three weeks by her side, pleading with her, talking to her, reading to her, trying to reach her, but it was all for nothing.'_

'_People in comas tend not to respond. The children aren't-'_

'_-She's different from the children; she's a teenage spirit, who is wanted dead by Pitch Black and his hooded friend, and she isn't writhing around in nightmares like them. Although, I don't particularly want to think about what she's being put through – I just want her back.'_

_Davet nodded sadly with distant features, as though lost in thought. He snapped back to reality and took one of Jack's fries, gaining a slight smile from him._

He took out his earphones and closed his books whilst reliving every moment he'd spent with Charlie over the past few weeks, trying to find anything that could have been a sign from her, any source of life other than her breathing and beating heart. He couldn't think of any such thing.

He could hear the whir of Tooth's wings as she brought a mug of hot chocolate over to him along with the remote controller for the TV, which looked like an enlarged block of dusty old Lego. He smiled thankfully as he plopped down next to her on the puffy-cushioned love seat. He froze with the mug a few inches from his lips as the news reporter flashed into view, standing outside a hospital in Nevada. Just as expected, there screamed the headline "COMA KIDS CATASTROPHE SPREADS TO NEAR STATE". The hot liquid dripped onto Jack's capri pants from the shaking of his hand.

Tooth hurriedly put it on the little side table saying, 'let's wait until that cools down.'

Jack took a deep breath and stood up. 'No, it's okay, I should be heading back now anyway. Thanks though,' he nodded at her before striding to the door. He couldn't stand sitting through another news report of "there's no positive progress being made because we know nothing of these matters, but we're sure going to get loads of ratings for this so let's squeeze as much out of it as we can!" Things were only getting worse, never better, he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to last before snapping completely.

As he put his hand on the door handle to leave his name rang out behind him, from an unknown voice. 'Jack! Jack!' He span around with darting eyes. When they settled on the TV, he saw that 'Titanic' now glowed from the fuzzy screen.

'Jack!-'

'Come on!'

'J-Jack!'

The TV flickered, changing volumes and channels of its own accord, between 'Titanic' and some soap opera.

'Stupid old piece of plaque!' Tooth yelled, giving the box a thorough feathered kick, at which, the screen returned to the, just as "plaque-y", news report.

Jack's brow furrowed as he stepped out into the corridor, which had grown even longer and eerier with every new full room of victims, with his school bag on his back and his staff gripped tightly in his hand. '_That TV has some attitude…'_ he thought as he stepped into the rattling lift.


	14. The Unknown

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Early update, hellz yeah! I hate to whine on about it, but pweeeeaaasse review as I have been lacking creative motivation lately and your support would really help! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story! :3**

**Chapter 14: The Unknown**

'I know you're Mr Dark-and-powerful-shadow-man, but seriously, this is just impractical!' Charlie called out into her unknown surroundings. Part of her was actually curious as to what benefit he could possibly derive from this, but then she realised gaining an answer would mean meeting Pitch Black in the pitch black and that didn't exactly scream "sunshine and rainbows".

She was lying down. She didn't know where, but wasn't sure if she wanted to know. In this sense the darkness was comforting, but then again it allowed her imagination to run wild; the unknown warping into fearful creations. The silence itched at her. It coaxed her into making little noises to ease it, but the echoes just made the reality of how alone she was more evident. Lying there, she came to notice just how clueless she was. She didn't know if she was alive, where she was, why she was there, if anyone else was there, if she was in danger, if the others were in danger, if there was any way of escaping this place, or if this was all just a dream. But her biggest fear was her own curiosity. She knew her inner-Dora-the-Explorer would get the best of her and she would venture the darkness, most likely to find something not so Dora-friendly.

The seconds went by painfully, and her legs twitched with the strain of keeping them against the floor. Eventually, her common sense lost and she ended up taking shaky steps through the dense black, waving her arms around for any form of support. Just as she gave up on using her (now sore) arms, she face planted into a something solid, a wall of some kind, and hobbled and shook as though having a clumsy epileptic seizure, causing her to hit her head again then ending up sprawled on the floor for the grand finale. She wobbly walked her hands up the wall to guide her to her feet, congratulating herself, '_So you haven't been that "spastastic" in a while, well done. Now you're in a lot of pain, you've wasted time and all of the shadows are probably laughing at you. Pitch is going to be so intimidated by you, isn't he?'_

She felt her way across the wall, turning to the other side of it when she reached the end. When she did, she found that there was another parallel to it. She walked down the little corridor, following the walls around twists and turns and only walking into them or falling over about three more times (something she was proud of).

It felt like she'd been walking for hours, but time was yet another thing she'd never know in this place. She collapsed against a wall and slid down it, to the floor. Her red dress had a low back, allowing the cold, but still, air to calm her sweat and exhaustion. She lay, panting and shivering, fear finally gripping her on top of the loneliness and hopelessness. There was so much she didn't know – even about her waking life, despite having lived centuries of it. She pleaded with the darkness. She called out names and sobbed, unable to think straight for the hot tears in her eyes and the memories of those waiting for her, the people she needed to return to and help, protect.

She wiped her face and willed herself to stand. Walking determinedly through the darkness, she thought solely of Jack. '_I am not crying in the dark, trapped, whilst everyone is in danger. I will not let them fight without me, I shall not be a coward. I will find a way out of here, there must be some means of reaching out to somebody, there is no way that I am completely alone in this. Someone must be controlling this place – who's to say that I can't?_' She thought of his smirk, his laugh and the twinkling blue of his eyes. She recalled the softness of his hair, their kiss in the attic, the way he held her, their later kisses in the snow and the way he blushed bashfully every time. When she opened her eyes they were slightly more adjusted to the dark and she could see vague outlines of doors lining the corridor. Upon scanning across them, she realised that the only reason she could see was because of a slither of light under one of the doors. '_So I'm not Cat Woman? Disappointed_…'

She opened the door with a slow, drawn out creak, one eye closed so that if anything were to jump out at her she'd be half as mentally scarred. That's how it works, right? Well, it turns out it meant that she was only blind in one eye when she entered the bright room.

When she saw the Guardians scattered around the room of child victims she was more confused than anything. '_Really? No maiming beasts, no-no black hole of doom? No gateway to hell?'_ She, unmistakably, stood in a room on the fourth floor of the workshop, in the odd mix of a spy head quarters and a hospital ward, filled with tortured children and their childhood idols. She expected to be relieved by the sight of Jack, and part of her was, but he looked so worn out and generally not himself that it was painful. Also, she was terrified that this would all be a trap and he would morph into something horrific.

He was sitting on the floor, clearing up school books. She swallowed down the heat that rose to her eyes, as she realised he'd started school and she wasn't there. She couldn't bare her fear of this _nightmare_ or whatever it was, it was the only thing keeping her from sprinting over and clinging to him. If she managed to make this room appear, she clearly had _some_ form of control over it and it was time to see how far she could run with it.

Bunny and Sandy were seeing to the children while North swapped between reading a book and pressing keys on a large control panel, causing holograms of Pitch Black and his various abilities to rise up in front of him. Tooth now sat next to Jack on a red love seat, whilst a news reporter spoke to them from the TV screen, trying their best not to look like they were reading from a teleprompter. '_Great, more kids in peril. I'm stuck here. Jack's falling apart. I really want ice cream right now, for some reason, and don't even get me started on this place! This is definitely not my day… Or night? I don't even know what month it is!'_

Finding, for once, that sassily ranting to herself wasn't getting her anywhere, she strode over to Jack and sat directly in front of him, on the floor. 'Jack. Jack?' She paused to no reply. 'Jack? Wait, why am I whispering? Jack!' she almost shouted. He stared right through her, visibly shaking with anger at the news report. 'So this is how you've felt all these years? Unnoticed, unloved, and transparent? Centuries of loneliness… I can't imagine… Seeing you like this, you not seeing me, yet I'm able to see you but not do anything about it – It's painful enough for these few minutes, never mind centuries. I'm so sorry Jack.'

She jumped back in fright as he suddenly stood and headed for the door, every sound was muffled other than his steps away from her, which hit the tiled floor with great thuds. Her vision turned hazy, but not just from the tears. She knew if he were to leave, everything would go dark again and she would be back to lying down on the cold blackness, back at square one again. Scrambling to her feet, she called out to him as she ran, that painfully slow run that you get stuck with in nightmares, 'Jack! Jack!'

As she said it, she noticed an echoing of her voice behind her and he whirled around to stare suspiciously at the source. She turned around and saw 'Titanic' on the TV. She tried again, 'Jack!' Rose had called out to her Jack at the same moment. She coughed a disbelieving laugh. 'Come on!' she yelled, pleading with the clueless boy to be less so. The TV copied her once again, 'Jack!', and again. Though, her last yell had been broken up and loud thumps sounded from behind her. The Tooth Fairy was kicking the TV, yelling something that resembled muffled gibberish to Charlie. With a loud _beep_ and a final _thump_, the screen returned to the news report and Charlie pushed against the thick air that was keeping her from running up to Jack, who was now closing the door.

The door clicked to a close and she was swept away by the darkness, sprawled on the floor once again. This time when she opened her eyes, two yellow ones leered down at her, glowing in the dark along with a manic grin.


	15. Suspicions

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Bonjour! Next chapter, woo! Moving on in the story, fun times, yeah! We're on a whole other level of… Spirits and stuff…? Yay!*Keeps singing and dancing* (Look forward to seeing this song on iTunes. I will probably have an album by the end of the story – feel free to give me a name for it in the reviews… Y'know? Those things I really love receiving and thank all of you for leaving? ;3 )**

**I have started a Harry Potter: Next Generation story, which I'd love for you to check out (if you like those fan fictions, of course). It won't distract me from this story and I shall stick to my weekly updates, so don't fret, I shan't abandon you! Sorry, if I'm coming across as even weirder than usual, I'm running on barely any sleep so I'm pretty delusional right now…**

**Chapter 15: Suspicions**

'I know these are difficult times to face right now, what with the increase in absentees and family members in hospital, but we must push on. In fact, it is in times like these that education is most important. You are all very bright and capable students. It is for these reasons that the school shall not be closing and I shall expect to see fine grades at the end of the year, as though it were any other.

With that, I leave you with luck, belief and prayers for the unwell and your futures. You're all dismissed. Thank you.' Mr Branson swallowed in final assurance of his decision and averted his steely gaze from the half empty hall. He stepped down from the platform, refusing to make eye contact with any of the remaining students and teachers. The double doors complained as he roughly shoved them aside and strode through them with his business-like air of purpose, towards his little office where he would continue his hiding from the outside world and its inevitable end; within the walls his school, there was no such thing.

The students didn't moan or protest when he announced the rumours of closure to be false and they still remained silent, having been sent home early. Jack watched them file out of the hall through to the main exit, from a gap in the fire exit door. All pupils were to attend the assembly, but he'd been suspended on account of "violent behaviour". So what if he gave some guy a black eye? The pig had been stuffing his face full of all sorts of crap, talking just as much so about Charlie. "Shame she's gonna die, I'd have done her any day" wasn't something Jack was particularly happy to hear, _especially_ not right now.

After kicking a considerably large chunk out of the crumbling old brick work, Jack shot into the air. '"_I know everyone you love are in comas and dying, but remember to do your maths homework, my little heartless robots in the making!" You're a funny, funny man, Principal Branson_,' he thought, bitterly. He flew swiftly past apartment buildings, weaving in out of the high roofs, watching his shadow follow his lead on the sandy and grey walls.

By the time he reached The House, the sun had almost set, giving way to the wintery twilight. The lights were out and lanterns lit every room a dull gold. '_Yet another power cut_…' He traipsed upstairs, straight past the mix of bored, nervous and frustrated voices coming from the common room – the meeting he was supposed to return to with yet more hopeless news. Sure, going to school would help them keep track of the increasing number of teenage victims (yes, _teenage victims_), but finding out how to stop the increase was more important than current stats and figures, and that was something that couldn't be done in Algebra or French class.

Jack whipped back out of sight from the open door of Charlie's room, as he saw someone sitting beside her. Mr Thomas sat, reading, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair that he clearly thought was necessary to bring down from his study. He was still really trying to motivate Jack with his little "teamwork" speeches, but they just annoyed him now; he was done with research, what was the point? He'd tried and failed and double checked and left worse-off each time. If he was really going to make a difference, he knew the answers were with the problems at hand: Charlie, Pitch and, just recently he'd decided, Mr Thomas. The others found this laughable at first, but very soon lost just about all patience with Jack;

'You're not helping, you're not hoping. You spend most of your time snooping around after the friendly English man I've known for centuries and sitting by a nightmare-coma girl's side expecting her to just wake up one day then everything will be all better! It doesn't work like that Jack, don't you see?!' Natalie had wailed, with wet, red cheeks. She'd snapped like Jack. But not in the dark and violent way he had – she was a teary and anxious wreck. She was constantly plagued with the same vision and knew she was supposed to do something about it, but didn't know what there was to do. The vision was of some sort of ritual being practised on a baby. She didn't see who was carrying out the ritual, but she presumed the child was Charlie or her mother. Either way, she didn't know what the incantations meant, therefore didn't know what was being done to the child. Yet still, MiM kept giving her the vision, insisting that there was something there to be noticed, something she was yet to find.

Other than Natalie, there hadn't been any outbursts about his suspicions of their leader. They had all either rolled their eyes or looked shocked and scoffed at him. But Jack still sensed something off about him. Mr Thomas spent all of the time he wasn't hidden away in his study, in Charlie's room, by her bed side. He'd confronted Davet, who still talked to him casually and acted as though the world wasn't falling apart, about it. Of course, he'd shrugged his aloof shrug and said, 'she's been at The House for just about as long as him. He's known her for centuries and was like the father she never had, so he's bound to be upset about her condition.' Davet thought he hadn't mentioned anything worthy of investigating, but, amongst the jumbled rabble of his hectic and determined mind, Jack had found many suspicious points:

He refused to believe the close proximity of their arrivals at The House to be a coincidence. Also, if he was like a father to her for centuries, how come she'd never mentioned him? Why did he insist on them being so determined in this pointless research while he spent hours with Charlie instead of helping or allowing them to do so? Why did he refuse North's order of taking her to the workshop with the other victims? Why was he always sending Jack on errands whenever he was with her? First things first, _who_ was he?

'It's not well mannered to snoop, Jack. Come on in,' he grumbled, not looking up from reading a rather falsely intriguing gold book which, honestly, could have been made from pure gold judging by the size and weight of the thing, but he had sent Jack to take it back to the library once and he'd had a look at it; 'History of Pirates, really?' he'd laughed. To which he'd received an irritatingly friendly smile and, 'I was checking if they'd got they facts right,' making Jack even more curious about his spirit form. He'd asked the others, but those who knew refused to tell him due to its "lack of importance".

'Sorry, Sir, I-I-just wasn't sure if it was okay to interrupt you,' he stammered, entering the dimly lit room, trying to make direct eye contact to unnerve the man but failing at doing so because of the glare on his spectacles. Instead, he was the one unnerved. It was annoying to the least, being nervous around those you were trying to intimidate. Sure, the man was quite lanky but he was _tall_ and had a way of intelligence that allowed him out outwit and belittle as pleased. Not that he did that very often seeing as he was such a "nice guy". 'Still reading pirate stories?'

'Well, it is a rather large book, Jack. Not even a man of my many years could read so fast as to finish it so quickly,' he chuckled, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with a handkerchief.

'How many years?' Jack enquired, his tone and face darkening as his nerves fled and his determination for information kicked into action.

Mr Thomas cocked an eyebrow, his frown lines ploughing side by side across his forehead. He perched his glasses back on his nose. 'Come now, I know I'm no insecure middle aged woman but that is a rather personal question which I would prefer to not divulge the answer to.'

'_Don't you play with me using your fancy words in your fancy sentences with your fancy accent. It's a perfectly reasonable question_.' How Jack wished to say this, but he doubted Mr Thomas would be any more willing to answer if he mocked him. Instead he reasoned, 'we're all friends though here, right? Haven't you ever told anyone before?'

The man laughed, the smile lines by his eyes crinkling. 'Why, yes, of course, Jack. But I have never made that rather impressive number known. In fact, I'm not sure even I myself could figure it out. Many have guessed, many humans, but it's a rather fruitless task when you can just call me "extremely old".'

'Older than me?'

'By far, I can assure you!'

'Charlie?'

'Also, by an outstretched, ancient, dusty landslide.'

'As old as Pitch?'

The man's smile wavered and he cleared his throat, 'I'm sorry, who?'

'Pitch Black, Sir,' Jack repeated firmly, arms folded.

'Really, there's no need to call me "Sir", Mr Thomas is very well,' he clears his throat. 'I must, regrettably, admit that I am of, even still, a far older age than the Spirit of Fear.'

Jack nodded slowly, unsure what he was supposed to say to this or what it meant to him and his suspicions. Was he adding to them, answering them or generally confusing himself? He guessed the latter. The suspect _was_ unsettled by the mention of Pitch, but not in any shifty way; he just seemed slightly frightened and solemn as most people are on cite of that certain topic. But now that the moment had passed he was back to reading in his usual calm and indifferent manner.

After a fairly long pause, in which Jack's eyes darted about a lot, the man looked back up and asked with a smile, 'was there anything else you were planning to bombard my elderly, decrepit self with?'

'Uh, well, I was going to ask what spirit you are, but you're probably not going to tell me, so…' he trailed off, turning to leave.

'Are you writing a biographical assignment for English class? If so, I must say, I am flattered,' he laughed.

Jack tried to smile in return but could only grimace. 'Err, no Si-Mr Thomas. I was just curious and happened to see you in here when I was walking to my room,' he lied.

'Aren't the boys' rooms down the opposite end of the corridor?'

'Uh, yeah, but I-I came in through the back door and went up the side stairs-'

'Avoiding the meeting, are we?' He cocked his brown eyebrow again.

'_Just as much as you have been since the moment this all came into play. There's another thing: how come you arrived here as her "illness" started getting worse? Then again, you were pretty frantic when she collapsed. Was that not supposed to happen? Did your little plan fail? I don't remember your wrinkles being this noticeable... Maybe it's just the bad lighting_.'

'Are you alright, Jack?' he asked, concern etching into the contours of his pale face.

'Um, not really, no. That's why I was heading to my room,' he lied further, motioning with his thumb in the direction of the boys' corridor.

'Oh dear, it's best you go sleep then, I say. Goodnight, Jack, sorry I wasn't of much help to your curiosity,' he smiles, delving back into the golden book of pirate tales.

'Yeah… Goodnight, Mr Thomas.' Jack left the room as slowly as he could without coming across as suspicious, himself. He hoped that this would make the man awkward and coax some form of last minute clue or answer out of him, but he didn't even twitch – not in the slightest.

Jack closed the door slowly behind him, keeping his eyes on the sleek brown top of the leader's head. But as his eyes trailed past the bed, they froze in shock as he realised Charlie's had been open the whole time.

**A/N: Ooooohh, cliff hanger! Please don't eat me, I'm sorry! D:  
I know I don't usually leave author's notes at the bottom but… My 'Rise of the Guardians' DVD came today! Woo!**

**Until next time! (When I hopefully won't squeal at you from your screen and open with "Bonjour".)**


	16. Pitch's Pawn

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Continuing on from Chapter 14 – Charlie's point of view. Please like/favourite/review if you enjoy **

**P.S. I found it difficult at one point to write this because I was laughing so much at the fact that I accidentally typed "Pitch's Prawn" instead of "pawn". I'm still going, it's ridiculous XD**

**Chapter 16: Pitch's Pawn**

The door clicked to a close and she was swept away by the darkness, sprawled on the floor once again. This time when she opened her eyes, two yellow ones leered down at her, glowing in the dark along with a manic grin.

Charlie felt herself being dragged to her feet, by nothing. The face was gone. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, speeding up to a dangerous pace. She felt sick. Even though the face had gone, she didn't dare open her eyes and she still felt a presence in the air, a buzzing of life, something dark, creeping around her.

'How pitiful, snivelling in the dark. Are you afraid of the dark, little girl?' a deep, soft voice sneered.

Charlie started hyperventilating and spluttering as she felt her throat closing up on its own accord.

'You're the key to his downfall,' the voice nears. 'It's all _far_ too easy, typical really. The key to defeating the great Jack Frost is the same as every other _hero's _weakness; their loved ones. How pathetic it is, that someone as weak as you can do _this_ to your equal:'

The air whipped around her and her eyes were prised open. She was lying on her bed in her room. The hazy purple of dusk was visible through her thin curtains and casted a square of light on Jack, who was sitting on the floor. His iPod was playing through the docking station in the corner and the plucking of Ben Howard's guitar reverberated through the room. He was reading one of her fairytale books aloud. She'd told him that she loved them when she was little and would read them in turn every night. His dark hair was matted and stuck up in odd directions and he had stubble along his jaw. His eyes were puffy and red above the purple of lack of sleep. She didn't know this though as she was lying on the bed. She could just see the top of his hair and hear his voice. It was painful how much she missed him and she hated herself for being the cause of this.

'You have so much power. I can feel it in the air. Yet you don't know how to use it. Such a waste. You should be thankful that it's being put to good use,' his voice purred through the slowly returning dark, menacingly.

Her body shook as she fought against darkness that was pushing against her, restraining her to the bed. 'We have very different ideas of "good use",' she growled. 'Now let me go!' With a crack, the room turned upside down and she fell back into the leering darkness. Upon landing, she hit something soft and sprang up again slightly. She found herself in a massive cot. Through the wooden bars a light bulb dangled from a cable, swinging. The movement made the shadows from the cot bars shift across her tear stained face. A figure appeared under the pendulum-like bulb. The light flashed past a sunken, almost skeletal face under a black hooded cloak. He held a scythe which glistened menacingly. Charlie whimpered. He was just like she remembered; forever staring at her, emotionless, haunting her, crimpling her, for all of those years.

'There, I Let you go. Are you happy now? Does this bring back any wondrous childhood memories?'

Charlie could hear Pitch's smile through his voice. She said nothing.

'I'll let you decide what's real and what's not for the time being. After all, this is your own little twisted world. I just so happen to be initial creator, the one who feeds off of every horror you dream up. The more scared you get, the more your imagination runs with it, making me stronger. Cruel, isn't it?' Pitch Black sneered.

Charlie went rigid at the close proximity of his voice, as she realised he was standing above her, leering down at her.

'You're being awfully quiet, please don't let me being the only one taking part in our lovely conversation,' he said in mock politeness.

'My power, it's a physical thing, isn't it? Almost living,' Charlie whispers without tearing her eyes away from the cloaked figure.

'Very clever. What makes you say so?' He turned his sinister yellow eyes on her.

'I can feel it, and hear it. It's like a buzzing. It moves and shifts around and inside of me. I've never felt it before; only in this place,' she croaked, still not looking at him.

'That's because you've never used it before. But it's active now, simply because it's being taken from you, draining slowly,' he answered her non-existent question, his voice deathly soft.

'Why are you telling me all of this? Why do villains always do that, give away their secrets, the answers, their plans? What's the point?' She asked, finally glancing at him to see his smirk.

His eyes glinted and the shadows defined his grey-ish, pointed chin. 'You're forgetting that villains are fictional, from childhood stories. We are real. I'm not telling you this to let some reader know what's going on. I'm telling you this to mock you, tease you. What's the point in taking your powers and destroying the world, including Jack Frost, if you are going to be quiet about it? I want to see you squirm as you feebly attempt to fight this. I want you to know what is being taken from you,' he spat.

Charlie scowled and shut her eyes, refusing to look at neither him, nor the figure.

'If it weren't for the prospect of this satisfaction, I'd have gotten you out of the way already. To me, you're just a pawn – a pest, even. Just something that needs to be rid of as quickly as possible so that I can "win", so to speak. But to him…,' he whispered threateningly in her ear. 'He's not been happy with you since you were struck by lightning. He won't be as friendly or merciful as I.'

With that, he slowly dispersed into black smoke, which faded into the never ending darkness.

Charlie was left sitting in the cot, staring at the figure, who returned the favour through dry, blood shot eyes. As the light bulb swung back and forth, his form changed. With every second flash of light, he appeared younger. He had dark swept-back hair and wore thin silver-rimmed glasses, which glared in the yellow-white light. His white ascot was tucked neatly into a black waistcoat and his scythe changed to a gold-topped cane. His face was set firmly, but after a while he began to smirk, as if noticing her fear and confusion. The man held up his cane and the light bulb froze in place. With a sudden, barking laugh he hit the ground with his cane, with a sharp crack, and he disappeared.

The light bulb began to buzz uncontrollably and popped out, followed by the smash of glass. Charlie jumped and screamed. Covering her ears, she closed her eyes and began to rock back and forth, shaking her head.

But her hands couldn't keep out the sound of the man's cackling and Jack's calls:

'Charlie! _Charlie_!'


	17. Phoning Home

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: I thought I'd try something different with this chapter because Charlie knows a different side of the story to the other spirits, so it's split up with Jack and Charlie's points of view. Please let me know what you think, I've tried to make everything as clear as possible. It may still seem slow going, but, trust me, I have the plot plan sorted and it really is getting somewhere. ;)**

**Chapter 17: Phoning Home**

**Charlie**

Ever since Pitch's delightful visit, Charlie's mind had been whirring. Who was that man with the cane? What association did he have with the psycho baring a scythe? Was he a hallucination? She wouldn't be surprised if all of this was. Was Pitch just trying to confuse her? That was also likely, but even if it wasn't his intention she most certainly was. Either way, she knew that the others would need to know. She didn't know if Pitch's visit held any purpose or relevance, but they would still need to know about it.

She was fairly positive that his visit was just to scare her, but one thing he'd said held value and she wasn't sure why he'd told her: '_I'll let you decide what's real and what's not for the time being. After all, this is your own little twisted world_.'

He may as well have just said, 'yeah, you can actually control this dark pit, so go ahead and bend it to your will.'

That was exactly what she was going to do. She thought solely of Jack and The House as she wondered around, no longer afraid of what she'd meet in the darkness. '_I've managed to contact him before, who's to say I can't do it again_,' she challenged her negative thoughts.

Just as she'd hoped, she found herself at a wall again, except this time she didn't walk into it. She followed it along until she wound up in a corridor of doors again. Only one of the doors had a dim glow spreading across the ground from underneath it and rising voices squabbled from behind it. This was the one. She opened it carefully and crept inside to find the spirits of The House holding some sort of meeting; a very loud and argumentative one at that.

**Jack**

'QUIET!' Natalie screamed. The rowdy shouts ceased and everyone stared her way, probably because they were too impressed by such a noise leaving the petit, sweet girl to ignore it.

They had been arguing for a good half hour. Over what? No one was really sure anymore, it had escalated to the point where anything negative, relevant or not, was being thrown into the mix. It had typically started by Jack joining the meeting.

After seeing Charlie's open eyes, he'd bolted back into the room and shook her, almost rising into the air with hope. But Mr Thomas had told him that he was doing a check up on her and had simply forgotten to close her eyelids back over. Jack didn't believe him though, as he was far too suspicious of him to do so.

Instead of interrogating the man further, he'd run downstairs and filled in the other spirits. They said that Mr Thomas' excuse made sense, seeing as he gave her a check up almost every night, but then Jack had brought up the point of '_why?_' and the yelling began.

He didn't understand why the possibility of Mr Thomas not being trustworthy was so impossible to them. It made perfect sense to Jack.

As more people joined in, the argument had split into several smaller ones amongst the group and the room was in chaos, but now all that was left was a grudging silence as all eyes were on Natalie.

'I know we're all tired and have different ideas, strategies and opinions, but we can't afford to keep fighting like this! All we can do now is work with what we've got and, as clichéd as it sounds, that's each other. Jack has his suspicions and although not all of us agree with them, he has every right to have them. Therefore, I say that he should get to investigate them further. I also say that we should work more closely with the Guardians. After all, they have all of the victims and could probably do with some help with gathering more of them. We've done our research and found only a few hopeful points, but our main clue is the one that MiM has been giving me and I think I know what to do with it,' she says sternly, like the commander of an army force giving their team a prep speech.

Most of the reluctance in the atmosphere faded as curiosity took over and everyone gazed at her expectantly.

'I'm going to Scotland, to Charlie's first home. In the vision MiM has been giving me, I think the baby in the magic ritual was Charlie being giving this power that Pitch and the other guy are after. In a previous vision I had – amongst the others I was given on the night Jack joined us – Charlie's mum was fighting off shadows with sorcery, using some things she had handy in the house. So, I figured that her mum could have practiced the ritual on her in their house, because they had the stuff for it. Also, in more recent versions of the vision, I've noticed there has been a book that her mum read from, a spell book of some kind.

I did some research on their house and it turns out that the towns people have kept it there, unoccupied and untouched, as a tourist attraction. I'm going to go and find the book – if her power was given to her using it, it must explain exactly what her power _is_.

I know it sounds like a long shot – a _really _long shot – but it's the only hope we've got,' she finished quietly.

Jack stood solemnly and recapped, 'so I'll investigate Mr Thomas, you'll go to Charlie's house, some people can research old rituals and spell books to try and help you and others will help the Guardians?'

She nodded at him with a small smile. 'Sorry Jack, for being so short with you lately. I guess, we're all sleep deprived and under a lot of pressure, then you came out with the idea of one of our oldest friends being something else…' she faltered, struggling to explain.

'It's okay, I get it,' he smiled in understanding before heading for the door, wanting nothing more than sleep at that moment.

**Charlie**

Charlie was overwhelmed with _everything_. Tears fell as she saw everyone again. They couldn't see her and they were all cracking under pressure and fear, but just seeing them gave her some relief from the darkness. But after the relief, came further confusion and questions. She had no idea what vision they were talking about or who this Mr Thomas guy was, but she was glad to see them doing something about it. But as she witnessed Natalie apologising to Jack, even more questions arose. '_They were being "short" with Jack over this Mr Thomas guy?_' she questioned her hearing. '_Well, I know Jack and he wouldn't be so adamant with these suspicions if he weren't positive that there was something wrong with this guy. Also, I don't see how this guy could be one of Natalie's oldest friends if I don't know him_…'

However, she had to shake her concerns off and focus, as she saw Jack heading for the door. She concentrated on her presence in the room and the people she was trying to reach. She thought about the TV and how it had changed at her will, forming her words. She focussed on Jack and she focussed fast; there was no way she was letting him leave again.

**Jack**

The door started flashing with light before Jack's eyes. As all of the lights and lamps started flickering he mused, '_the power cut must be over_.' But then everyone's mobile phones started to flash on and off and vibrate and ring. The radio screeched into play and started fuzzily tuning itself, with quick buzzes of programmes playing every so often. Then, the TV joined in, at first a mass of black and white lines and dots, and then it played a movie which stopped him in his tracks: Titanic.

'Jack!' Rose called out.

He span around and ran up to the TV screen. As he got closer, the signal became clearer.

Rose called again, 'Jack!' except this time all of the electronic devices in the room joined in. Amongst the many long lost answer phone messages and radio reports, the devices found his name and it rang out along with the TV. It was strange, like a buzzing, electrical chorus.

'It's me-'

'-Charlie,' the devices announced in different tones and voices, switching between programmes, reports and messages.

'I found a way-'

'-to reach you,' they explained.

Everyone either ran to the TV or radio, or held their phones up to their ears. Some people were even staring at their phones in amazement as Charlie typed to them on the little screens. One thing they all had in common was that they were listening intently with excited grins on their faces. Charlie was back in the game.

'I'm stuck-'

'- in the darkness,' the devices continued.

'I talked to Pitch-'

'-but I don't know if he was real.'

'He told me that my power-'

'-is alive.'

'When it dies, I die.'

Everyone remained silent, clinging to her words.

'Wherever or whatever this-'

'-place is, I can control it.'

'I can use it to find out-'

'-more for you guys.'

'But I don't know how much time I have left.'

'You all need to find-'

'-a way to stop this-'

'-draining process-'

'-before it's too late.'

'-I also have a lead on-'

'the cloaked guy-'

'Pitch's friend.'

'He has-'

At that moment every single device powered off. They were left in silence with only the candle light from the power cut. Charlie was gone, again.

Mr Thomas came wheezing into the room, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. 'Sorry folks! The lights were going crazy upstairs so I ran down to the basement and turned the power off. I hope you don't mind,' he chuckled and panted, completely oblivious to what he'd just cost them. He polished his spectacles and slipped them back in place, finally noticing that the room was in a state of shock, with everyone still holding out their phones and sitting by the radio and TV. 'What on earth is going on here?' he asked perplexedly. 'I know teenagers can't live without their electronics, but this rather ridiculous, is it not?'

There was an uncomfortable silence in which everyone's minds whirred with possible, believable excuses.

Natalie was the first to speak up, 'we just heard a strange buzzing noise coming from them, Mr Thomas. We were investigating it, but it was probably the power having a fit, like you said.'

Everyone either grunted or weakly nodded in consent, too in shock from the quick change in events to do anything more.

'Ah, I see. Well, it is fairly late now and tomorrow is a school day. I know I've let some of you stay off for research purposes, but I think it's about time you all started attending again, so everyone off to bed!' he clapped.

People slowly followed his lead, up the stairs, still in a confused daze.

When Natalie reached the door, she turned back around and walked up to Jack, who was still sitting in front of the TV, his eyes staring, watery but blank, an inch from the blank screen.

'Aren't you coming, Jack?' she questioned, worriedly.

There was a pause, in which the wind could be heard, whistling through the slightly open window. As Natalie pulled it shut, Jack ended the pause, 'why did you lie to him?'

'Because, although everything I've always known is screaming no, I have to respect your suspicions of him,' she admitted, resting a pale hand on his shoulder. He didn't flinch or show any acknowledgment of it. 'But, then again, he's our leader,' she said. When he didn't respond, she proposed, 'how about I make you a deal?'

After another silence, he forced himself to blink, tearing his eyes away from the TV to look up at her.

She took this as encouragement, continuing, 'I'll make sure we keep Mr Thomas in the dark for a week so that you can investigate him, which should be easy enough because you're suspended from school. But if you don't find any evidence of him being untrustworthy, he'll become fully involved again and all persecutions will be dropped. Deal?' she holds her hand out to him.

He takes hold of her hand and is lifted to his feet. He shakes it and croaks, 'deal,' before heading upstairs, dazed and confused with Charlie's words grating on his mind, '_I don't know how much time I have left._'

**Charlie**

Just as she was about to describe to the spirits the person they should be watching out for, the power cut out, she was cut off and the man himself turned up. The eccentric man with the cane that she'd been faced with before came panting into the room and she had to presume that they knew him, seeing as they didn't go into ninja mode. She was left to guess that this was "Mr Thomas", or at least she hoped it was because they were being wary of him.

Just like the end of her first attempt at contact, the air grew thick and Charlie felt it pushing her out of the door. She tried to cry out to them, warn them not to trust him, but she was pushed back into the darkness again, _again_.

Thankfully she wasn't met with Pitch Black's yellow, daunting eyes, but instead she had worry tugging on her gut. She just hoped that the others figured out that they were sharing their home with the enemy before it was too late. All she could do was push the boundaries of this dark space and try contacting them again soon. For now, it was just her and the darkness, waiting and feeling helpless yet again.

**A/N: Sorry, I feel like this ending was really weak, but I had to put in what happened to Charlie so you could see how much she managed to hear before she was swept away. Anyway, please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot! I really appreciate your support. **


	18. The Accomplices' Hideout

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Thank you so much for over 3500 views and the reviews, favourites and follows! :D You guys really do help me strive to keep up with my updates! Speaking of which, the next one may be up at any point within the next three/four weeks. I know that's quite a long time and it's not fair on you lovely people, but I'm sitting the most important exams of my school life within the next few weeks and I'm going to have to concentrate on them. I'll work on my fan fictions at any spare moment I can grasp. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one – a little change in scene and characters! **

**Chapter 18: The Accomplices' Hideout**

The shadows weaved their way down the alleyway, morphing and moulding to the crumbling red brickwork and cluttered pavement. The whole state was growing darker each night, the shadows intensifying as they grew with numbers of victims. All doors we're locked, as were windows. But that was what Pitch found both baffling and hilarious; such feeble barriers made no difference; darkness had always been and will forever be everywhere, more so after his – their – plan was through.

The Nightmare King stood, tall arching back facing the approaching shadows as he ran his finger from light to light on the dark globe in front of him. Lights were flickering out in time with his heart beat, steady and daunting, creating a black hole in the state of California. He was fairly positive that, if he were to so wish, he could have started his onslaught in the capital of every country in the world, taking over far more rapidly. But, instead, he chose to take his torturous time. The takeover of the world, plunging it into a new dark age, even darker than the first, would be much more satisfying if it were to be slow and painful for the sufferers. Andie had wanted the quick rise to rule, but Pitch had convinced him otherwise. His accomplice had been unsettled by the idea of giving the Spirits and Guardians more time to stop them, but that was the thrill of it. Their triumph would be far more glorious if they were to defeat them in the process. But before those children could even attempt to fight him, they would need to know more about his plan and that was impossible. He and Andie had formed the plan centuries ago, waiting for the right moment to retrieve the Charlie girl's power. Now was finally the time. She was almost fully drained, her physical self was weak, but her soul still wandered the "Unknown", the dark world he'd created to trap his victims in. Once they were in there, there was only two ways out: death, or worse, _living emptiness_, which was something many children, teenagers and adults alike, were soon to face. The clock was ticking and fear was growing, along with Pitch's power and anticipation.

He knew that the Guardians and Spirits would put up a good fight, but it could never be great enough. As long as He and Andie had the girl's power on their side, they were _gods_. Although he had told his accomplice this, the man had still been worried. To put his mind at ease, Pitch had given him the power to trap the Spirits in the Unknown and he was now awaiting his return, hopefully with the job successfully done. He had started to pace, occasionally swirling his finger around the black hole on the globe, when some of his shadows slithered down the drain pipe, into his hideout, from the alleyway above.

Just as he had expected, the clunking of heavy metal on metal closely followed. Then came a deep, raspy voice, 'I don't suppose that pacing was of the nervous kind, Spirit of Fear?'

Pitch looked up, a smirk planted on his grey-ish, pointed face. 'I can assure you not, Andie,' he wryly dismissed.

His accomplice's sunken, dry face eerily grinned from the other side of the globe. He clunked his scythe on the ground as he walked around the globe to Pitch's side. 'I'm fully aware that you find my original name amusing, friend, but I would rather you didn't call me by it in this form.'

'Why ever not? You have so many forms, it makes it all the more simple, I mean nothing by it,' Pitch simpered, the message of his words contradicted by his smirk.

'What about my most well known name, my rightful, true name?' the almost skeletal being suggests.

'Oh, I'd rather not. It's incredibly degrading for me. I think it's best we keep ourselves well balanced with one another. After all, once the world is in our grasp, we wouldn't want to divide such power, would we?' the Boogeyman leered. This was the drill every night they met; they played around a bit with such jokes of war against each other, whilst secretly being completely serious about it and fully well knowing that the other was just as so.

'Certainly not. But it was the name I was given…' the cloaked and scythed man trailed off, not out of intimidation, himself, but to intimidate.

'Even so, my point still stands,' Pitch gritted his teeth, growing tired after centuries of these games. 'You were also given some of my power. Did you put it to good use?'

"Andie" turned away from Pitch Black, petting a horse made out of nightmare sand and choosing not to face him as he admitted, 'I'm afraid not. Believe me, I tried, but it only gave them short nightmares, rather than sending them to the Unknown. I did everything as you said, but nothing worked as told.' He kept his movements and tone of voice loose and relaxed. He was not afraid of the Spirit of Fear, but the power he was bestowing on him was too great to lose, this alliance had to work. He was telling the truth, it really hadn't worked, but he doubted Pitch would truly believe him, even if he said he did. He could feel his yellow eyes boring into the back of his hood, but he didn't turn around. When no response came, he added, 'I know it would be a risk, but perhaps you could try?' He finally turned around to find that Pitch wasn't there. He turned back to the horse to see the Boogeyman stroking its grainy mane on the other side, facing him.

'I don't think that would be wise, no. It's not as though sending the Spirits to the Unknown is completely necessary. In fact, I think it will be far more fun if they're in the game,' he reasoned, sticking his fist into the horses sandy body. When he wrenched it out, the sand dispersed, shifted and fell into place, creating the scene of them both cornering and towering over a cowering Jack Frost. With a sinister grin, he waved the sand away and it turned back into a horse again, neighing indignantly and galloping away.

His accomplice nodded darkly, 'very well. As long as you're sure we won't be set back in any way. We've waited and planned for far too long for such things to happen at this stage.'

Pitch sighs exasperatedly, 'I understand that they will be a fairly strong force, but we will have immense power in our grasp!' He calmed himself before continuing, 'once we have harnessed that power and our army has arisen, they will stand no chance.'

The hooded man simply gave another firm nod and said, 'you're right. Any idea when the nightmare children will be ready?'

Pitch Black moved back over to his original place by the globe. His shadows followed, engulfing the miniature Earth and dimming the little lights of life. He beamed with wicked glee, 'as soon as the last drop of power is drained from that girl, they shall stir. The exact moment that shall be, I'll leave up to you to evaluate.'

The cloaked figure headed for the exit tunnel, smirking, knowing that his question had been empty – nothing but a silence-filler – and Pitch was fully aware of it.

He halted for a moment as Pitch finished his bravado, 'I see right through you, comrade.' He paused. 'Why on Earth would you ask someone else for the time?' he chuckled.

The sound reverberated down the dark tunnel as "Andie" walked away, his footsteps unheard, and his scythe hitting the metal tunnel floor. _Clunk. Clunk._


	19. Dingle's Dilemma

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

**A/N: Hey! So it's been a while, but I'm half way through my exams now and by the end of next week, I will have over two weeks left of study leave to myself, in which I'll be able to whap out more updates for you lovely people! Thank you for patiently waiting **** I know this one's a little short but the next one, of the same length, will be up at some point today and the one after that, also the same length, will be up at some point this week. I hope you enjoy this week's first instalment! If you do, let me know :D**

**Chapter 19: Dingle's Dilemma**

Dingle never understood his surroundings terribly well. None of the elves did really. But he knew something was wrong when he ended up in a part of the workshop that wasn't brightly lit in all colours imaginable and buzzing with life. This corridor was dark and unforgiving.

He and his elf friends had been messing around with a toy canon the yetis had constructed. He had hopped into it, covered in glitter, and had found himself flying through the ventilation flap, which, after many a bumpy twist and turn, landed him in this creepy place, still covered in glitter and with the top of his hat singed off. Dingle was sad, for he no longer _dingled_ everywhere he went without the bell of his hat. But his dopey elf nature prevented his sadness from lasting long and he was scampering along the lengthy corridor with his usual goofy grin in no time.

It wasn't until all sources of dim light blacked out and the foreboding cackling began that his persona faded again, to be replaced with fear and confusion. It would have been at this point, when he was quivering more than he did on the cold planes of ice and snow outside of the workshop, that he would have heard his bell jangling with him; a source of comfort. No comfort was to be found.

Poor Dingle was at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he didn't comprehend that this was so. He and the other elves felt fear, happiness, anger and sadness just like most people, but they're emotions tended to be triggered by self involved things. For instance, Dingle didn't know where he was or what was going on but he was frightened, yet indifferent as he was still proud of his successful canon fire.

Not wanting to stick around for much longer, like the time when he put hot sauce in North's cookies, he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He kept running and running through the complete darkness until he met a very painful end to the desperate flee – a metal gate. Dingle wasn't tall enough to reach the handle. If he had any sense or was capable of thinking of sensible and logical things such as prejudice, he would have thought this to be very unfair. '_So now an elf can't escape from danger because of his height?_' he would have thought. Instead, his thoughts were heading more along the lines of, '_outside: canons, cookies, warmth. Inside: cold, dark, me no like-y_.' He thought it over and over as he rammed into the gate, his elf logic assuring him that it would have to budge eventually, when in fact he would have knocked himself unconscious, had he kept going. Dingle managed to catch onto this factor when he became very dizzy. He only had one other choice: to run all the way back down the creepy corridor and wriggle through the ventilation flap again. And so, again, he kept running and running, this time in a very uncoordinated fashion. He weaved through the darkness, stumbling around, the root of his throbbing dizziness emanating from the bulbous lump on his forehead. With every hurried, clumsy step the deep but menacingly soft cackling grew louder. With every door Dingle scurried past, he grew more and more convinced that there was a rumble of footfall resounding behind them. As he closed in on the metal flap, the doors began to rattle against their frames. With a final leap through the flap, the over powering crescendo was met with the creaking of doors opening. Thankfully, he was gone before he had the chance to discover what the doors were freeing.

Dingle tumbled through the ventilation system with a gravelly voice reverberating through the metal pipes after him: 'it's time.'


	20. The Chest

House of Spirits

ROTG Fan Fiction

A/N: The second instalment of the day I hope you guys enjoy it! I had to be careful when writing as I reveal/confirm quite a lot of things here, but there were some things I had to save for later :3

Chapter 20: The Chest

Natalie had taken two days to fly to Charlie's home. She would have asked North for two globes to transport her there and back, but she wished to check on the state of other countries on her way there, so she only asked for one, for her return. It turned out that the only place affected, so far, was there state. She didn't know whether to be relieved by this or terrified. Either way, she was uneasy.

She'd spent a further two days searching her endangered friend's old home for the prized spell book to no avail. She was hoping to find secret passageways and entrances to Charlie's mum's sorcery stashes, but she'd had no such luck. It was infuriating how small she felt in this situation; she and the spirits knew nothing of Pitch's plan and in the few following times that Charlie had managed to contact them, she had been cut off before divulging any information on Pitch's accomplice. They were completely in the dark with no means of shedding any light.

Fed up, anxious and terrified, Natalie had decided to sit on the grassy hill by the sloping drive way, when her prophecies fluttered up to her, with their little blue butterfly wings aglow, and guided her down the cobbled path, through a gap in the bushes and through the tree-swamped forest. As she warily followed her helpers, recognition grated on her already seething mind. The forest floor was damp from the previous shower of rain and the trees towered, tall and rough, creating a protective but patchy roof over her. After walking for a while, she came notice that some of the trees had been cut down, others pulled from their roots and one of them, a small withered stump, was charred and beyond saving, with roots clearly too deep and strong to dig up. It wasn't until the trees broke away to reveal a muddy bank and a mass of water, that the recognition stopped grating on her and cut straight into her instead, effectively bringing her to her knees on the slippery bank. This was where Charlie died.

Surely enough, just above the surface of the rain-loaded lake, she could see a few mossy stepping stones. Why on Earth had she been led here? It wasn't as though Charlie or her mum could have hid anything here; they were both dead before they'd had the chance. Yet, she knew her prophecies wouldn't bring her here – the source of so much pain, both her own and others' – for nothing. She was tugged back to her feet by this assurance. The little angelic orbs still drifted onwards, continuing over the lake, doubling in numbers as their reflections on the murky water joined them. Natalie followed them, taking to her tired wings to avoid breaking through the sharp sheen of the most probably freezing lake. She figured that her prophecies were leading her to the bank on the other side, but was proved wrong when they sank through the water, sending smooth ripples, like liquid glass, her way. She hovered where they disappeared, watching the blue lights fade in the rain and mud churned water. She saw them stop when they were just barely visible, but a lot smaller, appearing to be at the rocky bottom. Upon lowering herself so that her nose just barely grazed the water, she could see their blue glow glint off of something shiny. She knew full well what she had to do, but after hastily dipping her toe into the lake she was shivering with hazardous cold, rather than anticipation.

Nevertheless, she found herself counting down, wishing it to be over with as soon as possible. '_For Charlie_,' she thought. '_Three, two, one_.' The water funnelled up around her as she tucked her wings down, drew in a generous breath and submerged herself, swiftly kicking towards the little lights of hope. Her eyes stung mercilessly, but she kept them pried open, intent on reaching her helpers. The object they were so persistent with bringing to her attention was a locked chest. She would have thought, '_how typical_,' but she decided to save her sarcastic, witty comments for when she was able to breathe again.

Once she had one of the chest handles firmly in her grasp, her helpers lay under it to prevent it from affecting her flail to the surface. Her chest and throat contracted and the icy water managed to seep into her every crevice, bringing a staggering chill to her bones. She resurfaced, gasping, spluttering and convulsing with shivers as the cold air attacked her wet skin, making it feel frozen and raw. Natalie desperately flung herself onto the nearest stepping stone, immediately grateful that some of them were still above water level. The chest landed in front of her with the clunk of wood against rock and the rearranging of its contents, along with the crack of splintered wood. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed the stinging away, taking several eyelashes with it.

Her prophecies dispersed, leaving her to watch their morphed lights retreat behind her in the rusty metal of the chest's edges and padlock. She wriggled and kicked her way onto the stone and sat with her legs crossed and the chest in her lap. The corroded padlock snapped open easily, some of it crumbling onto her feathery skirt, which was now heavy with water load. She opened the chest with shaking hands, to reveal two books, many envelopes and pieces of old parchment and various other little objects. She grinded her chattering teeth into a smile when she lifted the larger book and read its title: '_Witchcraft of the Light_'.

'_So witches were real_,' Natalie mused, with either adrenaline or dread building up inside of her. She gently flicked through the delicate, stiff old pages, until she met the one she was looking for, which just so happened to be bookmarked with a thin, silky green ribbon attached to the book's leather cover. '_How strange_,' she thought, '_to go through so much trouble to keep this locked away – a secret – to then leave the bookmark in place_.'

The title of the spell was inked into the page, precisely curled and dauntingly bold, the mystery and magic of it all still evident and seeming odd in reality. But then again, who was Natalie to find witchcraft and sorcery unrealistic? She was an immortal butterfly girl who had visions on an increasingly regular basis. The incantations Charlie's mum had been reciting in her vision were written before her disbelieving eyes: '_Protector__vitae__,__custodis__vitae__,__protector__vitae__,__custodis__amari_.'

She knew the burden placed upon Charlie would not be light, but she never expected this. Everything started to make sense. The spell name screamed out at her still and her mind raced with her heavy heart, not wanting to believe the dire consequences if Pitch and his friend were to succeed in there transaction of this sheer amount of power. Charlie's words ran over and over in a never ending mantra in her mind as she tried to come to grips with the reality of exactly what Pitch was up to. '_He told me that my power is alive_,' she'd said. Natalie didn't know exactly what Pitch was going to do with the power but she knew that he planned to turn the "Witchcraft of the Light" into black magic; that he was going to turn good into evil; light into dark; take Charlie's life from her for the sake of turning this spell – the bold letters before her – into its horrifying opposite.

Before Natalie could leap to her feet, and most likely slip on the fungi-riddled rock in the process, the silver spine of the other, slightly thinner, book glimpsed at her in the light of the white-grey sky. Its title read, '_Legendas__ De Ex __Uelut__Fabulares_.' Page after page was filled with black and now-not-so-white illustrations and stories of legends stretching way back before any time a century old immortal such as Natalie could ever dream of. Just as she got through the fifth story, a ghost story, feeling both compelled and intrigued to read on but confused as to what relevance this had at the same time, she found a picture that made her nippy, bloodshot eyes widen against their will. In her lap resided an A5 representation of a cloaked man with a skeletal face under a low hanging hood, bearing a scythe in one withered hand and an hour glass in the other. There was no way she was forgetting this face anytime soon, for this, she unfortunately recalled from the glimpse in one of her first Charlie-related visions, was Pitch Black's accomplice. '_Patrem__ Tempus_,' she read. She recognised the language as Latin, just like all of the other foreign text she'd come across so far, as she had thankfully found herself bored enough over the past few centuries to learn a language or twenty.

There were more pictures to follow the first, each appearing to represent a younger version of the previous. The next one showed a similar figure, but less skeletal, with sunken skin and wide, eerie eyes. The next showed an elderly man in a toga, wearing a wreath upon his head and carrying only an hour glass, making him certainly appear a lot friendlier than the first two. However, she didn't worry about the friendliness of the first two, for she found a friend as she turned the page again. The final picture was of the far younger man in a waistcoat, ascot and thin rimmed glasses, holding a cane and raising a quizzical eye brow at the pocket watch he dangled before him. It was Mr Thomas. She thought her mind should have been going into overdrive, after all, it was Mr Thomas, but it was also Pitch's not-so-happy helper – Mr Thomas, their trusted leader, was their enemy – but she went blank. She didn't go blank as in losing consciousness, but as in forgetfulness. The book landed with a _thunk_ in the chest as her hands gripped her ears to muffle the deafening ringing that suddenly assaulted them. Images and memories she'd forgotten she'd ever had came flooding back in a matter of seconds, sending her into a dizzying frenzy.

When the noise cleared and her breathing and thoughts calmed, realisation dawned on her, closely followed by fear, panic and rage. She didn't actually know Mr Thomas. He'd done something, she didn't know what, but he'd messed with her mind and, she figured, everyone else's other than Jack's, hence why he saw right through him. All of the fake, faint memories she'd had of his presence in The House were gone and replaced with the truth – her actual life.

She took her hands from her head and looked back down at the sprawled book, noticing something sticking out from between the pages. She retrieved it, finding it to be a browning envelope signed to Charlie in the overly swishy and swirly handwriting of a young girl trying to remodel her handwriting and signatures, with the I's dotted with little love hearts. Natalie tucked it back into the book, being careful not to look at its pictures again for fear of an emotional breakdown, and found loads of old sketches underneath it, in Charlie's indisputable style. They were all variations of the scary hooded man who had haunted her for many years and, as much as it pained and enraged Natalie to say so, was winning this sick, twisted power-hungry game along with his friend, the Boogeyman.

With bleary, watering eyes, she shoved the chest's contents back in place and removed her belt before strapping and buckling it securely around the chest to keep it shut, in place of the rusted, broken padlock. As she stood on the stepping stone, her wings opened high with a new sense of pride and determination. With the water streaming from her clothes and short hair, she looked like a valiant pixie water feature.

One of her prophecies returned with a tiny marble which, when placed in Natalie's hand, grew into one of North's snow globes. As she threw it into the air and opened a shimmering, swirling portal to The House of Spirits, she decided, '_it's Father Time's time for an ass-kicking_.'

**A/N: Yay Natalie, you go guuuurl! I'm sorry, I'll never say that again… I hope XD So, did anyone catch on to the hints throughout the story at Mr Thomas being Father Time? Hell, even his name is a hint! Or am I just being stupid for thinking anyone wouldn't catch on? Haha, let me know if you guessed it. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it! :D**

**Also, I apologise for the poor Latin; blame Google translate XD**


End file.
